Part 6 (2/2)

”Hooray! Hooray!” yelled the crowd of onlookers as Slim spurted and the pair rounded the stern and came down to the tape at the end of their first lap, neck and neck. Both were puffing like porpoises.

”Hey, Sausage, you've got a flat tire,” cried a youth as they pa.s.sed.

And from another: ”Your engine's knocking, Skinny. Reduce your spark.”

So the good-natured raillery continued while the two fat boys drove doggedly on, now at considerably reduced speed, but still side by side, each determined to capture that plum pudding.

They had pa.s.sed the tape a second time, snorting louder and in shorter gasps than before, and with the biting repartee still a.s.sailing their ears, when the man who had disappeared into the hold of the s.h.i.+p came into sight again, carrying a large can.

”Quick!” he warned those about him. ”Right here--before they see.”

And he proceeded to divulge the contents of the can as a heavy grease, almost the color of the deck, which he began to smear heavily thereon over the entire surface that the runners would have to cover, from a distance fifteen feet away from the tape.

”They're on their way,” whispered a voice, and the crowd parted to give the two the proper s.p.a.ce in which to finish the race. There was an air of great expectancy among the onlookers.

The lads were still struggling along neck and neck, but Slim's leg work was so timed as to make him the first to strike the grease. He slid, tried to regain his balance, skidded into his compet.i.tor, who also was floundering for a foothold, and then, progressing to a spot where the grease was thicker, both feet went out from under him and he went down, kicking Delicate's foundations from under him, also.

The crowd yelled with laughter, and the breath went out of poor Slim with a terrible snort, as Delicate came down squarely upon Slim's stomach. And thus, the most ludicrous sight imaginable, they went sliding under the tape.

”All bets are off,” shouted the other man who had been boxing; ”they broke before the finish.”

Side by side, too breathless to articulate, the two fat youths lay there gasping for breath, while those gathered about them made mock gestures of ”first aid to the injured.” n.o.body had been hurt, however, and the victims of the prank took it in the way it had been intended.

Delicate, whose real name was Remington Bowman, proved to be as good a sportsman as Slim, and they went down the deck arm in arm when the mess call was sounded. And it was evidence of the good fellows.h.i.+p of the owner of the plum pudding that he did share it with both of them directly after the meal was over.

”You fellows earned it,” he said. And they agreed that they had.

That evening it was Joe's turn to do watch in the wireless room with Lieutenant Mackinson until eleven o'clock, at about which time the young officer retired to his bunk just off the operating room, and Slim came on, to work until three a. m., when he was relieved by Jerry, who stayed until seven o'clock, at which time the lieutenant again a.s.sumed charge until relieved by Joe.

It was a standing order, however--at least until the younger men became more experienced with the wireless--that Lieutenant Mackinson immediately should be apprised of the sending or receiving of any messages.

This first evening out the lieutenant complained of a headache, and, acquiescing in Joe's urging, had gone upon deck to get the air. Perhaps fifteen minutes had elapsed when Joe thought he heard someone prowling about stealthily in the battery room.

His first thought was that the lieutenant had returned to make certain that everything was all right, but a moment's consideration convinced him otherwise.

Whoever was in the adjoining room was making every effort to keep his presence there from becoming known!

It gave Joe a queer sort of feeling. What should he do? To seek the lieutenant and bring him back might require several minutes. Meanwhile the intruder might accomplish his object--whatever it was--and disappear.

He decided to act upon his own initiative. Tiptoeing across the room, he turned off the electric switch, which threw the wireless room into utter darkness except for the meagre moonlight filtering through an open porthole.

Then, just as silently, he re-crossed the room to the door leading to the battery room; slowly and without a sound he turned the k.n.o.b and opened the door to a sufficient width to permit him to peer in. That room also was in darkness, with only one porthole open.

Cautiously the intruder seemed to be feeling about for something connected with the batteries.

Listening intently for a moment, to get the exact location of the other man, Joe flung open the door and made a flying leap in the other's direction. The man was leaning over, and Joe landed squarely upon his back.

<script>