At the Fall of Port Arthur: or, A Young American in the Japanese Navy

"I only hope the old man fixes up his papers so that he can show a clean bill of health," went on Grandon. "You see, if they can't actually prove something against us, they won't dare to touch us. They know what Old Glory means, and Russia has no desire just now to get into trouble with Uncle Sam."

"The worst of it is, our cargo may look too suspicious to them. Under ordinary circumstances they know that the Columbia wouldn't be carrying such a line of goods in these waters."

"That's true, too."

"Besides that, they may have had an agent at Nagasaki and at Manila spying on us. They may know just what is being done. The Czar's followers are mighty slick, I can tell you."

Captain Ponsberry now came on deck and gave quick orders that the sailors should be lined up, to receive the visitor in a befitting manner.

"A little goose grease may help," he drawled, with a knowing glance at Grandon and Larry.

The foremast hands did not know much about lining up, but took the places assigned to them, on the forward deck. Over the side a rope ladder was thrown, and then Captain Ponsberry, Tom Grandon, and Larry awaited the arrival of the Russian naval officer with keen interest.

CHAPTER XII

TAKEN AS A PRIZE OF WAR

Slowly but surely the small boat came closer to the schooner. She rode the long swells of the Pacific with full grace, and Larry could not help but admire the long, sturdy strokes of the jackies, as they bent to their task.

"I don't know but that they can handle a small boat as well as our own jackies," said Larry.

"Why shouldn't they? Russian naval training ought to be first-class," answered Tom Grandon. "They have been at it longer than Uncle Sam."

"True, but that doesn't always count. Spain had been at it longer than we had, too, but when it came to war we beat her in double-quick order."

As the small boat came closer they saw that the jackies were mostly men of middle age. But the coxswain was younger and so was the naval officer, who was gazing rather anxiously toward the schooner, as if wondering what the result of his mission would be.

"Wonder if that chap can talk English?" queried the first mate. "If he can't the old man will be up a tree, for none of us can talk Russian."

"I reckon Peterson and Semmel can talk it," answered Larry. "But we don't want either of those rascals to open his mouth."

At last the small boat came up alongside of the Columbia. It was no easy matter to catch the rope ladder without getting bumped, but it was successfully accomplished, and then the Russian officer lost no time in coming on board. He at once saluted, and Captain Ponsberry and his mates did the same, and the sailors in the background did likewise.

"What ship is this?" asked the Russian naval officer, after a few necessary formalities were at an end.

"The American schooner Columbia," answered Captain Ponsberry.

"Would you mind telling me for what port you are bound?" went on the naval officer, who could speak fairly good English.

"We are bound for San Francisco, with a stopover at Nagasaki."

"Ah! What sort of a cargo are you carrying to Nagasaki?"

"One belonging to the firm for which the Columbia is in commission."

"The name of the firm, please?"

"The Richmond Importing Company."

"Ah!" said the naval officer again, and looked slightly displeased. As it happened he had a brother in the army at Port Arthur, and had heard of the doings of Gilbert Pennington at that place, and of how the young American had accused certain Russians of trying to cheat the company he represented.

"What warship do you come from?" demanded Captain Ponsberry, feeling that he had an equal right to ask questions.

"The auxiliary cruiser, Pocastra, of the Russian navy," answered the naval officer, politely.

"And where are you bound?" went on Captain Ponsberry, bluntly.

"That, sir, is a question only our commander, Captain Titorsky, can answer."

"It's queer you are steaming around in Japanese waters."

"Perhaps so." The Russian naval officer smiled in a knowing way. "Captain Ponsberry, I am sorry, but I think I shall have to inspect your papers."

Captain Ponsberry drew himself up, resolved to put on as bold a front as possible.

"This is an American ship, sir."

"Granted, but I have my orders," returned the naval officer, coldly.

"If I refuse to let you inspect the papers?"

The young Russian officer shrugged his shoulders.

"We shall be under the painful necessity of compelling you to show them."

"You threaten me – an American captain!"

"There is no help for it – I am simply obeying orders. We inspect all ships that we find in this vicinity."

"Do you know I can make you pay dearly for this outrage?"

"You cannot call it an outrage. You are in Japanese waters, Japan and Russia are at war. You knew that before you came into these waters. Am I to see the papers or not?"

The commander of the Columbia knew that the Russian naval officer spoke the truth. Yet he made one more effort.

"Very well; I will show my papers, but I shall insist upon you signing a paper that your ship held us up."

"You can send the paper to my ship for such a signature from my captain," said the Russian, evasively.

By this time four of the jackies of the small boat had come on board. All were armed and they lined up at the rail, close to the rope ladder. They were good-natured sailors and grinned broadly at the hands on the Columbia. Not one could speak a word of English, so conversation with them was impossible.

Captain Ponsberry led the way to the cabin of the Columbia and the young Russian officer followed. Getting out such papers as had been prepared for the occasion, the master of the schooner passed them over.

"These are correct so far as they go," said the Russian, after an examination lasting ten minutes had been made. "But – " he paused. "You have no further papers?"

"Those are my papers, sir," answered Captain Ponsberry, briefly.

"Then I will look at a specified list of your cargo."