Dave Darrin and the German Submarines Part 24

"Mighty glad of it," cried Danny Grin, gripping his chum's hand again.

"I don't believe you'll be sorry either. It's a humorous adventure on which you and I are going to embark."

"If there's any humor to be found in this great, grim war," Dave retorted, "then it will prove a most welcome relief from the kind of work that has been holding our attention."

Dave had already cleaned up all matters relating to the transfer of command on the "Logan." Hence there was nothing to hinder his departure by train at daylight the morning following. For two hours the chums rode, then alighted at a port town so small that its name is never heard on this side of the water.

Within five minutes the two young naval officers, carrying their worn-looking suit-cases, reached the water-front. Dan's heavier baggage had gone on ahead and Dave carried none beyond what his suit-case contained.

The harbor was a small one. Dave had seen it all ere they reached one of the three small wharves of which the water-front boasted.

"Humph!" he remarked. "So you must wait for your s.h.i.+p to come in?"

"I don't believe so," Dalzell returned.

"But there is no wars.h.i.+p in this harbor," Darrin remonstrated. Indeed, the only craft above the size of small boats were a battered old tramp steamer, a former trawler, now a patrol boat, a steam fis.h.i.+ng-smack and a schooner.

"All the s.h.i.+pping in this harbor combined wouldn't make a proper command for a lieutenant-commander in the United States Navy," Dave observed.

"Dan, you've been grinning ever since you brought me the veiled news yesterday. It is now about time to unmask and tell me what you're up to in the way of mischief."

"That would be to open up the case of the watch and show you the whole works," Dan retorted, mockingly.

"Then I give it up," sighed Dave.

In response to a mere hand signal a boat put off from under the quarter of the battered tramp. As it neared the wharf Dave's wonder grew.

"So that old tramp steamer is going to act as tender, and take you out to your new s.h.i.+p?" Dave inquired, feeling as mystified as he looked.

"Have a care, Danny-boy. That tramp won't keep afloat long enough in an open sea to take you far!"

But Dalzell made no reply. Instead, he walked to the steps that led down to a landing stage, returning the salute of the seaman in the stern of the row-boat. Plainly the tramp could by no possibility be Dan's "new"

s.h.i.+p, for not even a man in the boat-crew wore the uniform of the United States. Though the men showed bright, intelligent faces, their garb was of the most nondescript character worn by seafaring men.

Dan gravely led the way to seats in the stern.

"Shove off!" ordered the c.o.xswain. Then the men gave way at the oars.

Dave watched their rowing. To an amateur eye the handling of the oars wasn't so bad, but it was utterly different from the rowing done by a smart man-o'-wars crew. Dave felt the mystery deepening.

Nor did it grow lighter when the boat was driven in at a rickety side gangway. For, looking up, Dave saw a frowsy-looking lot of heads of men who were lounging at the rail and looking down at the water. The name of this frowsy-looking craft, Darrin discovered, was the "Prince."

Dave went aboard on what would have been called the quarter-deck on a more pretentious craft. Dan led the way at once into the deckhouse and into a pa.s.sage-way.

And right here Dave received another jolt. Inside, a clean-cut looking sailor lad, in new, handsome U. S. uniform, saluted smartly, at the same time stepping forward to take both suit-cases.

"Take Mr. Darrin to his cabin," Danny Grin directed, gravely. "Then bring my bag to my quarters."

In another moment Darrin had seen three more smart-looking jackies. He was then ushered into his cabin, and his bag placed inside the doorway.

"Hm! This cabin doesn't look as bad as one might expect," Dave Darrin murmured to himself. "But what can the game be? Danny-boy is certainly carrying on this joke in a mighty mysterious fas.h.i.+on."

Hanging up the sheepskin coat that he had carried on one arm, Darrin next removed his long uniform overcoat and hung that up also. There came a brisk knock at the door.

"Lieutenant-Commander Dalzell's compliments, sir, and will you join him, sir?" inquired the messenger at the door.

"Gladly," a.s.sented Darrin, drawing aside the curtain that fell over the doorway and stepping outside.

His conductor led him forward into a large cabin.

Just as he entered Dave's puzzled glance fell upon several pairs of boots standing in a row near the door. He gasped when he realized that they were high, lace affairs, of a distinctly feminine pattern that were in fas.h.i.+on on Broadway the last time he had seen that famous thoroughfare.

And here, right in front of him, stood Dalzell, earning every letter in his nick-name of Danny Grin.

"I didn't know that you had ladies aboard, Danny," Dave remarked, halting and gazing at the shoes.

"Who said we had?"

"But those-" began Darrin, pointing at the footgear that had aroused his wonder.

"Newest thing in service shoes," laughed Dalzell.

"Have your own way about it," Dave chuckled.

"It's a fact, just the same," Dan retorted. "And say! Are you thoroughly discreet? Can you keep a Service secret?"

"I can hand you a wallop in about a half a second," Dave Darrin retorted.

"I am answered," Dan replied, gravely. "Follow me."

Just at that instant a girlish figure came through from the connecting cabin. Dave couldn't see her face, which was closely veiled. But from that other cabin came a roar of laughter. Dave Darrin felt like pinching himself to see if he were awake.

"Come on in," chirped Dalzell. "The water's fine to-day."

Taking Dave by the arm he piloted his chum into that next cabin.

And now, indeed, Dave Darrin had reason enough to wonder if he were awake.

For three long tables occupied a good part of the cabin. And on these tables uniformed jackies, their faces all a-grin, were laying dresses, women's coats and hats as they took them from boxes.

CHAPTER XVI

ABOARD THE MYSTERY s.h.i.+P

"Looks great, doesn't it?" demanded Dalzell, in an undertone, after the sailors had stood at attention and had received their orders to "carry on."

"It would look all right in a dry-goods store," countered the thoroughly mystified Darrin, "but what does it mean here?"