The Dreadnought Boys on Aero Service

Ned half staggered from his seat and came toward him. The sailors stood to one side, in a half-awed fashion. Ned's face, after his long and trying strain, was ghastly. His eyes shone with an unnatural brightness.

"Well, my lad," said the commander briskly, "what is the meaning of all this?"

"I – I – can I speak – " began Ned.

But suddenly the decks and the eager faces about him seemed to join in a mad dance. He swayed weakly, and would have fallen, had not some jackies near at hand caught him.

"Send that man to the sick bay," ordered Commander Dunham. "There's something out of the ordinary in all this," he said in a lower tone to his officers.

Ned was half-carried, half-supported, to the ship's hospital. He soon recovered from his temporary weakness, and asked to see the doctor at once. When that dignitary responded to the summons, he drank in, with eager ears, Ned's astonishing story. The result was, that Commander Dunham was at once requested to visit the sick bay. A conference ensued, which lasted till almost dark. By that time Ned was fully recovered.

It was after dark that a torpedo-boat destroyer, with Ensign Bulkley in command, slipped away from the fleet and vanished in the fog. On the conning tower, beside the officer, was Ned Strong.

The powerful searchlight cut a bright path through the mist ahead. Somewhere in that smother lay the craft they were in search of, the anarchists' sloop, on board of which Herc was a prisoner. How eagerly Ned longed for the fog to lift, may be imagined. But they cruised all night without a sign of its lifting. By daylight they were some distance out at sea. When, at eight o'clock, the fog began to lift, the shore was revealed, before long, as a dim, blue streak in the distance.

But nobody had eyes for that when a sudden shout went up from the lookout forward.

The man had sighted a sail on the horizon. But as they drew closer to it, the craft was seen to be a schooner with a short, stumpy mizzen-mast.

"That's not our boat," said the ensign disappointedly.

"But what can have become of the sloop, sir?" wondered Ned. "Surely, she couldn't have vanished from sight during the night. She's not a fast enough sailer for that."

"True," said Bulkley. "By Jove!" he exclaimed suddenly, "you don't think those chaps have disguised her, do you?"

"They might have, sir. Don't you think it's worth while to board that schooner, anyhow?"

"I do, Strong," agreed the officer.

The destroyer was headed toward the schooner. The wind had dropped and the vessel was rolling idly on the oily sea.

"Aboard the schooner there!" cried the officer, as they came up close to the vessel with the peculiar-looking after-mast. "Stand by! We are going to board you."

A bearded man stood at the helm. He was the only person visible. Ned scrutinized his face eagerly, but could not recognize him. This individual only waved a hand in response to the officer's order. But, as the destroyer's way was checked, and she lay idly on the waves, he suddenly vanished into the cabin. The next instant a square port at the schooner's bow was swung open, and, without the slightest warning, a long, shining, cylindrical object was shot forth.

It struck the water with a swirl of spray, and then, with a line of white wake, in its swift course, headed straight for the destroyer.

"A torpedo!" exclaimed the officer, who, with Ned, was just about to clamber into one of the lowered boats.

The men on board set up a horrified shout. So short was the distance between the two craft that between the launching of the torpedo and the dreaded impact of its "war head" against the side of the destroyer seemed but an instant. It was a fearful instant, though, and lived long in the recollection of those who endured it.

The torpedo struck the side of the destroyer with a metallic clang. But no explosion followed. Instead, the implement floated harmlessly off.

"Phew!" exclaimed the officer, wiping his forehead. "What an escape! I thought we were all booked for Kingdom Come. Come, lads, man the oars quickly. We'll get those anarchistic rascals out of their rat-holes and make them suffer for this outrage. But what the dickens was the matter with that torpedo?" he muttered.

"I think I can explain, sir," rejoined Ned.

"By Jove, you can? Let's hear your explanation."

"You see, sir," said Ned, "while Herc and I were exploring that cabin, we found those torpedoes. Well, when an opportunity presented itself, I unscrewed the head of each, and withdrew the gun-cotton. But I was afraid that, after they marooned me, the anarchists might have examined them and found out what I'd done and reloaded them. But I'm confident now that they haven't."

"No, you've drawn their teeth with a vengeance. I tremble to think, though, what would have happened if they had had an opportunity to use one of the loaded ones. They're a sharp outfit of tricksters, too, with their disguised sloop."

"But not sharp enough to fool Uncle Sam," exclaimed Ned, as the boat was run alongside.

As it scraped the disguised sloop's side, a figure suddenly appeared on the deck. It was Herc. He made a flying leap for the boat, and landed in a heap in their midst.

"Row for your lives!" he yelled. "That maniac, Muller, is about to blow up the vessel. I got away by knocking a couple of the crew galley-west."

"Give way, men!" shouted the officer, and willing arms pulled the boat from the schooner's side. But the explosion did not come. Instead, two figures, recognized as those of Merritt and Chance, appeared on the deck. They signalled for the boat to come closer.

"We captured Muller, just as he was about to blow up the sloop," they shouted. "If we surrender, will you show us clemency?"

"I'll make no promises," was the grim reply of Ensign Bulkley.

Something like an hour later, the destroyer, with the disguised sloop in tow, re-entered Blackhaven Bay. On board her – a raving maniac – was Herr Muller. His long-smouldering insanity had at last broken into flame. He was confined on board the Manhattan for a time and then removed to an asylum, where he now is. He will never recover his reason, and unceasingly imagines that his mission is to destroy the United States navy. As for his followers, they received various terms in prison. Kennell, alone, escaped. It transpired that he had been sent ashore after supplies, and so was not on board the disguised sloop when the futile attempt to blow up the destroyer was made.

Of course, the suspicion which had been directed against Ned and Herc was speedily explained away, and they were rated higher than ever in the estimation of their officers. Part of the substantial monetary reward Ned received for his courage and resource in reaching the fleet, via aeroplane, was sent to Professor Luminetti, the King of the Air. The quartermaster at Dundertown received a severe reprimand for his over-zealousness, but nothing more was done to him, as, after all, he thought he was performing his duty.

Had we space, we would like to relate the further aerial adventures of Ned and Herc on Aero Service. But sufficient have been related here to convey some idea of the importance of such an adjunct to our navy. It will always be a proud boast of the Dreadnought Boys that they helped to establish the aeroplane as a valuable auxiliary of the modern battleship.

But the scenes shift rapidly on the stage of naval life. Fresh places and opportunities were shortly to be presented to the Dreadnought Boys.

Uncle Sam's navy was on the eve of its epoch-making, globe-circling voyage. If you care to follow further the careers of The Dreadnought Boys, and learn how they conducted themselves amidst novel surroundings and changing and exciting conditions, you will find it all set down in the next volume of this series, "The Dreadnought Boys' World Cruise."

THE END