Dave Darrin on the Asiatic Station. Or, Winning Lieutenants' Commissions on the Admiral's Flagship

“I was wondering,” Dave continued, “whether it would do any good to complain to the police. On second thought, I believe I shall write the chief of police after I go aboard ship. If there’s a regular gang working this part of Manila, then the police ought to know it, but I’ve no idea that the police would be able to get our money back.”

“That money has been under cover for some minutes,” rejoined Dalzell. “If you’ve any loose change you might settle our bill here.”

“I haven’t a cent,” Darrin confessed.

But the proprietor of the little shop begged the young gentlemen to forget the little bit of small change that they owed him. This both Dan and Dave refused to do, promising to pay him the next time they came ashore.

No sooner did they step outside than they were confronted by a well-dressed, tall young man under thirty.

“I hope you’ll pardon me,” said this stranger, with a rather decided English accent, “but I couldn’t possibly help overhearing your conversation inside. For that reason I know that you have had the misfortune to be robbed of your money by Chinese thieves. Now – no offense intended, I assure you – could I be of any manner of use to you? Pembroke is my name, you know; Pembroke of Heathshire, England. I’m on my way around the world. Now, if between one gentlemen and two others, you know, I could be of any – ”

The Englishman paused, as if embarrassed; it was plain that he was trying to offer a loan of money.

“I think I understand you, Mr. Pembroke,” Ensign Darrin replied, with a grateful smile. “It is extremely kind in you, but the robbery has left us embarrassed only for a moment. Both of us have funds deposited with the paymaster on board ship, and after we go aboard it is only a matter of asking for what we need.”

“You’re not annoyed, I trust,” murmured Pembroke apologetically.

“No; profoundly glad to find such faith in human nature as you have displayed,” smiled Ensign Darrin.

“Oh, I don’t trust the whole blooming human race,” declared Mr. Pembroke gravely. “I’m not such a simpleton as that. But I know that good old Uncle Sam’s officers are gentlemen, and between gentlemen, you know, there is and should be a lot of jolly confidence.”

In the easiest way in the world, Mr. Pembroke was now sauntering along with the two young Americans.

“Do you know much about the Chinese?” Dave inquired.

“Not enough to make me like ’em a precious lot,” replied Pembroke.

“I wish I could understand their lingo,” muttered Dalzell.

“And I’m positively proud that I don’t!” glowed Mr. Pembroke.

They had halted at the water’s edge, now, Dan turning his eyes in the direction of the breakwater to see if he could make out the launch for which he and his chum waited.

“Here comes a fuzzy-fuzzy boat,” announced Dalzell, at last. “But it’s not ours. Just as it happens, the craft is a Frenchman.”

Pembroke cast a glance at the approaching launch, then went on chatting with Darrin.

Presently the launch ran in alongside, a middle-aged French officer stepping up on the jetty not fifty feet from where Dave and his companions stood.

The Frenchman started rather visibly when his gaze rested on Pembroke. Dave noticed that. And Pembroke saw the Frenchman, for one fleeting instant. Then the Englishman turned his back squarely, while the French naval officer, holding himself very erect, and with a frown on his face, returned the courteous salute of the young American officers.

“Do you know that gentleman, Mr. Pembroke?” Dave asked quietly.

“Never saw him before,” declared Mr. Pembroke coldly.

“That’s odd,” reflected Dave. “If faces are books, and if glances may be read, I should have said that the Frenchman didn’t like our very courteous Englishman.”

The French officer was now passing out of sight.

“I see our launch,” called out Danny Grin.

“I say, Mr. Darrin, by the way,” spoke up the Englishman, “what is your ship?”

“The gunboat ‘Castoga’,” Darrin answered.

“Then, if you don’t mind, I’m going to do myself the honor, some afternoon in the near future, of going out to your ship and calling on you. I find it very dull here in Manila, you know, and I shall be glad to see more of you both.”

“We shall undoubtedly meet at one of the clubs ashore,” Dave smiled back steadily into the other’s eyes. “In that case, I’ll try to introduce you to our commanding officer, and I’ve no doubt that he’ll be glad to extend you a cordial invitation to come aboard.”

A few moments later the launch from the “Castoga” came gliding in at the jetty. Dave and Dan extended their hands to Mr. Pembroke, then stepped aboard the launch, leaving the Englishman to turn away.

Nor had he more than turned his back when Pembroke allowed a very distinct frown to gather on his face.

In front of the office of the Captain of the Port, Pembroke came face to face with the same French naval officer. The two men regarded each other stolidly and passed on without speaking.

CHAPTER II – THE TRAGEDY OF THE BAY

“Why did you turn the Englishman down so hard?” asked Danny Grin, as he and Dave sat at the stern of the launch that sped down the river and then out to the naval anchorage in the bay.

“I didn’t,” Darrin replied.

“You shut off his proposal to visit us on board.”

“Dan, didn’t you notice the look that French naval officer gave Pembroke?”

“No.”

“Perhaps you noticed how stiffly the Frenchman stepped away after returning our salutes.”

“I saw that,” said Dan, “and wondered at it.”

“I think the French officer was trying to flag to us an intimation that Pembroke isn’t one who would pass inspection in naval circles.”

“No?” gasped Danny Grin, looking genuinely astonished. “It never struck me that way. He had the appearance and the manners of a gentleman.”

“So has many an international confidence man,” Dave rejoined. “I don’t know a blessed thing against Pembroke, and perhaps the Frenchman doesn’t either. Unless I can find out something definite about the Englishman, I hardly care to be the one to introduce him to our little wardroom crowd.”

“I see,” nodded Dalzell thoughtfully. “You’re right, Dave. One can’t be too careful about his introductions, nor can one very well receive callers on board ship without making them known to the other wardroom fellows.”

After the three battleships on which our young naval officers had served, the “Castoga” did seem small by comparison, although she was a gunboat of comfortable dimensions, with an ample wardroom for the number of officers carried, and with all the ordinary provisions for comfort afloat.

With a crew of one hundred and thirty sailors supplemented by a detachment of thirty marines; with a large enough crew in the engineer’s department, and with nine officers, including a surgeon and a paymaster’s clerk, in addition to three engineer officers, the “Castoga” carried a businesslike complement.

Lieutenant-Commander Tuthill was the commanding officer, with Lieutenant Warden as executive officer. The four watch officers were all ensigns.

After reporting their return to the officer of the deck, Dave and Dan went promptly to their quarters. Here, after bathing, they dressed for dinner, which was due to be served in less than half an hour.

At table, later, Dave told the tale of the robbery that afternoon. Dan added the tale of their meeting with Pembroke, and of that Englishman’s offer to loan them money.