Dave Darrin on the Asiatic Station Part 5

It was Ensign Darrin who discovered a small, outrigger canoe stealing forward in the night. Two seconds later the marine also reported it.

Calling the nearest sailor to him, Dave gave him brief, whispered instructions which sent the young man slipping noiselessly forward.

"Shall I hail that craft, sir?" whispered the sentry, standing stiffly beside the young officer.

"Not yet," Dave rejoined. Both stood there, watching keenly. Few landsmen, on such a night, would have been able to make out so small a craft at such a distance. Those who follow the sea are trained to cat-like vision.

"Sentry," whispered Dave, "do you make out a second craft, following the first?"

"Just barely sir," replied the sentry, after a sharp look.

Unless the two small craft changed their courses speedily Darrin knew that he would have to hail them and warn them off. In these piping times of peace in the Philippines, there was nothing very suspicious in two boats coming close to a war vessel at anchor. Still, the two canoes could not be permitted to come up alongside without the occupants first giving an account of themselves.

"It looks like a race," Dave told himself, as he continued to watch intently. "Jove, I am tempted to believe that the second canoe is trying to overtake the leader. What can it-"

In the act of bawling an order forward, Ensign Dave Darrin felt his tongue hit the roof of his mouth. For, at this instant, the pursuing canoe ranged up alongside the first.

There was a dim flash of something, accompanied by a yell of unearthly terror.

"Light!" shouted Dave Darrin huskily.

"Aye, aye, sir."

In a twinkling, the narrow, dazzling beam of one of the forward searchlights shot over the water.

Within three seconds it had picked up the smaller of the canoes. To the watchers from the deck of the gunboat this canoe appeared to be empty.

Then the light s.h.i.+fted enough to pick up the second, larger canoe, now darting sh.o.r.eward under the impetus of two powerful paddlers.

"Ahoy, there, sh.o.r.ebound boat!" yelled Ensign Darrin l.u.s.tily. "Lay to and give an account of yourselves!"

The challenged canoe moved on so rapidly as to call for the constant s.h.i.+fting of the searchlight's beam.

"Lay to, there, or we fire!" bellowed Ensign Darrin over the rippling waters of Manila Bay.

But the canoe made no sign of halting.

"Sentry!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Take aim and hold it!"

"Aye, aye, sir."

Then again Dave challenged.

"Sh.o.r.ebound boat, third challenge! Lay to, instantly!"

No attention being paid by the two paddlers, Ensign Darrin now gave the sharp order:

"Fire!"

That bullet must have whistled uncomfortably close to the fleeing craft, for on the instant both paddlers rose in the canoe.

"Fire!" commanded Ensign Dave, the second time.

At the sound of the marine's shot both poised figures sprang overboard from the canoe.

"Shall I fire again, sir?" asked the marine, as the beam of the searchlight continued to play upon the waters where the divers had vanished.

"Not unless you see those men that jumped overboard from that canoe,"

replied Ensign Darrin.

Though the searchlight continued to flash further across the water, nothing was seen of the men from the canoe. Indeed, at the distance, the rippling waves might easily conceal a swimmer.

"Pa.s.s the word for the boatswain's mate!" Darrin ordered.

As that petty officer appeared, Darrin ordered him to turn out a boat crew and put one of the boats over the side.

"First investigate the nearer canoe, then the second. Bring them both in alongside. If you see any swimmers in the water, pursue and pick them up."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Still the searchlight continued to play over the waters. The "Castoga's" small boat ranged alongside the smaller outrigger canoe, and soon had it in tow with a line astern. A minute or two after the second canoe was picked up. A short search was made for swimmers, after which, on signal, the boatswain's mate turned and headed for the gunboat.

"s.h.i.+p's boat ahoy!" Dave called, as the boat and its tows came near.

"Ahoy the deck, sir!"

"Are both canoes empty?" Darrin inquired.

"The first one isn't, sir," replied the boatswain's mate. "There's a dead Chinaman in it. Head almost cut off; sword work, I should say, sir."

"Bring both tows alongside," Dave ordered, with a s.h.i.+ver. "I will communicate with the police."

After ordering a wireless operator turned out, Ensign Darrin went over the side, down a sea-ladder, to the smaller of the outrigger canoes.

Huddled in a heap in the canoe, was a Chinaman who did not seem to be more than thirty years of age. His head, nearly severed from his body, had fallen forward until it hung close to the dead man's chest. It was only by turning the head that Ensign Darrin was able to see the face, on which there still lingered a look of terror.

"A Chinese tong-fight or a gang murder," Dave told himself, in keen disgust.

Then climbing up over the side he sent an orderly to summon the executive officer.

Less than three minutes later Lieutenant Warden, fully dressed, and wearing his sword, walked briskly out upon the quarter-deck.

The executive officer listened intently while Ensign Darrin made his report with conciseness.

"I'll take a look at the body," said Mr. Warden, and went down over the side. He came up again, horror written in every line of his face.