The Mystery Ship 24

The Mystery Ship 24

The seaman Dietrich paused in the act of hoisting the U-boat's

ensign. Frantically Furst shouted to him to run up the white flag

after all.

 

"Be quick!" yelled half a dozen voices. "Be quick before she fires

again!"

 

It was an excellent example of the lack of discipline. When the men

were ruled, although by an iron hand, they did their work smartly and

well. In secret they grumbled, but the fact remained they carried out

the orders of their commanding officers with automaton-like

precision. Deprived by their own act of a real leader, they had

deteriorated within the space of a few hours into a panic-stricken

mob.

 

The Black Cross Ensign--the hoisting of which might have drawn a

devastating fire upon the mutineers--was untoggled and rolled into a

ball with indecorous haste, and a rectangular piece of white cloth

was hoisted to the mast-head. Even Hans Furst heaved a sigh of

relief. Captivity awaited him, but, after all, it was preferable to

being "bowled out" by the German naval authorities and ignominiously

shot as a mutineer.

 

Then as Q 171--to outward appearances she was U 231--lost way a

cable's length astern of her prize and trained her formidable

armament upon the mutineers, the Huns lined up on deck with hands

upraised, shouting their craven shibboleth of "Kamerad."

 

Blenkinson smiled.

 

"Good as a play, eh, what?" he remarked.

 

"I agree," remarked Cumberleigh. "After all, I'm glad I missed 'The

Maid of the Mountains.'"

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XX

 

THE END OF U 247

 

"IT seems as if Old Man Morpeth's keen on taking all the Auldhaig

crush for a joyride," said Meredith, as he shook hands with

Cumberleigh and was introduced by the latter to the other R.A.F.

officers.

 

Both Wakefield and the R.N.V.R. Sub knew most of the staff at

Auldhaig Air Station by sight, while Meredith had met Cumberleigh on

several occasions, both officially and socially, as they were members

of the same club.

 

"The world is small," quoth Cumberleigh. "All the same, I hardly

expected to tumble across you half way across the North Sea. What are

you doing on this hooker?"

 

"Supernumeraries," replied Wakefield. "Same as you. Unless anything

unforeseen takes place, I fancy we're off to German waters on a

particular stunt."

 

"Hope there won't be too many underwater stunts," said Blenkinson.

"I've had enough submarine work during the last twenty-four hours to

last me a lifetime. Give me an old 'bus at five thousand feet any

day."

 

"There'll be no under-water performances this trip, I hope," remarked

Wakefield gravely. "If there is, it will be a case with us."

 

"Is that so?" asked Cumberleigh. "I thought this was a captured

U-boat."

 

"So did I once upon a time," said Wakefield, and he briefly explained

Q 171's true rôle.

 

The five officers were standing aft watching the transhipment of the

mutineers. Morpeth and Sub-lieutenant Ainslie were far too busy to

pay any attention to the released captives. The R.N.R. skipper was

alertly watching events, ready to cope with any sinister designs on

the part of Fritz, while Ainslie was superintending the task of

clapping the surrendered Huns under hatches.

 

With a good knowledge of German--it was mainly on that account that

he was appointed to Q 171--Ainslie soon obtained the mutineers'

carefully concocted account of what had happened to merit their tame

surrender; what was more, he literally "knocked the stuffing out of

them" by informing them that their precious yarn was all eye-wash,

and that Ober-leutnant von Preugfeld and Unter-leutnant von

Loringhoven had been picked up and were now on board as prisoners of

war. Yet with the Hun's typical effrontery Hans Furst coolly told the

examination officer that after the war he proposed to settle in

England, become naturalised, and make plenty of money.

 

"The English," he added "will be grateful to me when they learn that

I threw the German officers overboard."

 

While the cross-questioning of the mutineers was in progress Morpeth

was taking steps to destroy the prize.

 

"You might have a look round before we send her to the bottom," he

said to Wakefield, who jumped at the suggestion.

 

So Wakefield, Meredith and three of the Q-boat's crew manned the

collapsible dinghy belonging to the captured submarine and boarded

the prize.

 

A hasty examination showed that no attempt had been made to play

tricks with the sea-cocks, nor had Fritz, according to his usual

custom, placed bombs with time-fuses in the hold. It was another

example of the lack of a master. So intent had the Huns been to save

their own skins that they took not the faintest precaution to prevent

the confidential signal-book, log-book and other documents from

falling into the hands of their enemy.

 

"It's a pity to have to scuttle her," remarked Meredith regretfully,

as he surveyed the complicated array of mechanism. "It would be just

my mark to navigate her to Auldhaig under a prize crew."

 

"No doubt, Sub," rejoined Wakefield drily. "But unfortunately there

are objections. Morpeth's short-handed although he's choc-a-block

with useless passengers. We couldn't make the Hun mechanics take on

in the engine-room. On the way, even supposing you tackled the job,

there's a risk of falling in with a Boche U-boat, or a greater risk

of being torpedoed or bombed by our destroyers and aircraft. No doubt

Cumberleigh and the R.A.F. fellows would bear a hand, but they're

amateurs at the game. We should be if we were called upon to navigate

a coastal airship."

 

"And we should be out of Morpeth's big stunt," added Meredith.

"Having gone so far I should be sorry to miss it."

 

"Exactly," agreed the R.N.V.R. lieutenant. "So U 247 must go to Davy

Jones. I think we've seen everything of importance."

 

The U-boat was to be scuttled by opening the under-water valves.

Destruction by means of explosives was undesirable, as the report

might bring inquisitive craft upon the scene, and Q 171 was for the

nonce a sort of social pariah and liable to be fired upon by British

patrol boats, which acted upon the principle of shoot quick and shoot

straight at anything resembling a German submarine.

 

Ordering the boat's crew to stand by, Wakefield went below once more.

By the aid of an electric torch, for the internal lighting

arrangements had given out, he found the levers that operated the big

valves. So great was the inrush of water that Wakefield fancied he

would be trapped by the miniature Niagara. Without waiting to

manipulate the second sea-cock, he hastened precipitately on deck and

followed Meredith into the dinghy.

 

"Done the trick?" inquired Morpeth, as the two R.N.V.R. officers

regained the mystery ship. "She doesn't seem in a hurry."

 

Nor was she. It seemed quite a long time before the volume of water

admitted into the U-boat's hull made any visible change in her trim.

At length her freeboard diminished. She began to settle by the stern.

 

"I suppose you made certain that there were no other prisoners of war

on board?" inquired Captain Cumberleigh.

 

"Trust me for that," replied Wakefield. "Why did you ask?"

 

"Because I'm rather mystified about a fellow who called himself

Captain Fennelburt. He was with us when von Preugfeld collared us.

One of the mutineers pitched me a yarn to the effect that von

Preugfeld set him ashore. If so, what was the motive?"

 

"I'll see Morpeth about it," decided Wakefield.

 

"Ask von Preugfeld," suggested the skipper. "I can't do so myself

just at present. Make him own up, and don't stand any nonsense."

 

Cumberleigh, Wakefield and Blenkinson went below to interview the

prisoner. They acted on Morpeth's tip and stood on no ceremony. Time

was a consideration, as the U-boat was sinking and they wanted to see

the end.

 

Wakefield came straight to the point.

 

"I understand, Kapitan von Preugfeld," he said sternly, "that you had

on board another prisoner, a Captain Fennelburt of the R.A.F. He was

not found when we searched U 247. Now where is he?"

 

"You ask him," replied von Preugfeld, indicating von Loringhoven.

 

"I do not know," protested the unter-leutnant, "but he does."

 

Evidently von Loringhoven was getting pretty sick of being made a

convenience of by his egotistical skipper.

 

Wakefield's brows lowered. There was an ominous glint in his eye.

 

"I give you five seconds," he said darkly. "Otherwise, if you refuse

to tell me, back you go on board U 247. I might add that she is

sinking. Now: one... two... three... four---"

 

"I tell you!" exclaimed von Preugfeld. "All I tell you. Der offizier

he try to escape. He vos shot. It is der rules of der war."

 

"Unfortunately for the statement," interposed Captain Cumberleigh, "I

heard from one of your men that you landed him early this morning."

 

"In dat case," rejoined von Preugfeld, shrugging his shoulders, "why

you ask me? You take der word of a common sailor instead of a

Prussian offizier--a von Preugfeld? I tell you he lie."

 

Wakefield turned his back upon the bullying Prussian.

 

"It's evident that there was no other British officer on board," he

remarked to his companions. "We'll go into the matter later. Come along, if we are to see the last of U 247."