The two American boys realized that they were in touch with one of the grandest combats the world had ever known.—[Page 107]

TWO AMERICAN BOYS
WITH THE
Dardanelles Battle Fleet

BY
MAJOR SHERMAN CROCKETT

AUTHOR OF “TWO AMERICAN BOYS WITH THE ALLIED ARMIES,”
“TWO AMERICAN BOYS IN THE FRENCH WAR
TRENCHES,” ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY
CHARLES L. WRENN

NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1916,
BY
HURST & COMPANY

CONTENTS

Two American Boys with the
Dardanelles Battle Fleet.

CHAPTER I.
ABOARD THE GREEK POWERBOAT.

“This old Greek powerboat seems to be making pretty fair time, isn’t it, Amos?”

“It certainly is, Jack, which fact gives me a whole lot of solid satisfaction, I tell you.”

“Lucky for us the water happens to be fairly smooth this spring. They say the Ægean Sea can kick up a lively circus when it takes the notion.”

“The old stories told of the Greek mariners prove that. You know, Jack, we’re fairly surrounded by places that have been made famous in ancient history.”

“Right you are, Amos, and I reckon the Straits of the Dardanelles, that in the days of Leander used to be called the Hellespont, is one of the most noted sheets of water in the wide world.

“Yes, dozens of old-time cities like ancient Troy were situated around the Sea of Marmora. The Persians crossed the straits when they tried so hard to conquer brave little Macedonia and Thrace. Then there was Alexander the Great, who led his wonderful army into Asia by the same route. I guess you could talk for hours about the thrilling events that have taken place along the Dardanelles.

“And now, Amos, to think that in these modern days the Turk is ably defending the water road to Constantinople against his one-time friends and backers, the British and French.

“Times have changed, Amos, and I reckon the Turk is on his way to scuttle out of Europe at last. He came from Asia, you know. Constantinople wasn’t founded by the followers of Mahomet, but taken as a prize of war.”

“Well,” answered Amos, “I only hope that this time we’ll be lucky enough to find my brother Frank. We’ve made two attempts back in Belgium and France, and arrived just in time to learn he had been sent to other fields where skilled airmen were badly needed.”

“Three is often the lucky number, Amos, and somehow I’ve got a hunch that this time we’re bound to run across your brother, who has done such good work for the Allies.”

“I hope so, Jack, I certainly hope so; and one thing sure, I’ll never forget the splendid way you’ve shared my fortunes, no matter how dark they seemed. You’re a cousin and a chum in a million.”

“Forget all that, please, Amos. I’m straining my eyes through this glass in hopes of picking up some sign of land ahead beyond that island yonder; or perhaps seeing the smudge of smoke from the Allies’ battleships on the hazy horizon. Here, take a look, and let me know if you can make out anything.”

Perhaps it might be just as well, while the two manly-looking American lads on board the big Greek powerboat are thus engaged, to go a little into details, and explain who they are. It is necessary, also, that the reader know what strange mission took them into the dangerous waters of the Mediterranean while the world war was in progress.

Of course, those readers who have had the privilege of enjoying the two previous volumes of this series[1] do not need an introduction to Jack and Amos, since they have already followed the pair through many extraordinary adventures when near the firing line in Belgium and Northern France.

There are, however, doubtless others who are making the acquaintance of the two chums for the first time in these pages, and for their sake a brief explanation is necessary.

Amos Turner and Jack Maxfield were not only related through ties of blood, being cousins, but for a long time they had been the most devoted of chums. Blue-eyed Jack had spent some time on a Western ranch, and learned many things there through actual experience that his friend knew only in theory, although Amos had been for some time interested in the Boy Scout movement.

The boy with the dark eyes lived near Chicago, and his father, Colonel Rodney Turner, was known as an ex-military man whose book on tactics had been used throughout the English-speaking world. The stern martinet had traveled extensively, and in this way became personally acquainted with a number of soldiers of world-wide reputation.

There was an older brother, Frank Bradford Turner, a bright boy, but inclined at one time to be wild (and was sometimes called Tom, a nickname of early days). When the old gentleman missed a pocketbook, which he remembered distinctly of having placed in a desk drawer where he kept his papers, he fully believed Frank had given way to temptation and taken it.

The boy had simply denied ever seeing it, but the circumstances were so very suspicious that it ended in a quarrel, and his being sent away from home.

Frank had not been seen by any one for several years, and must have grown to manhood, for he was ten years older than Amos.

Then, one day, an astonishing discovery was made in the Turner home. The drawer of the Colonel’s desk became wedged, and, being now in failing health, he called in Amos to get it out, and oil the edges so it might work smoother.

Amos, discovering that one or two papers had been dragged off the top of the pile in taking the drawer out, thrust his hand into the cavity to capture them, and immediately held up the long-missing pocketbook. It had fallen off in opening the drawer, and was never stolen after all.

Remorse began immediately to gnaw at the old soldier’s heart. He called himself all manner of names, and was suffering keenly, under the belief that he would now never see his oldest born again.

It was learned, through accident, that Frank had traveled in African wilds with a noted explorer. Then, later on, in England, he had taken to aviation, and made a practical air pilot of himself. They even discovered that he had offered his services to the British Government at the outbreak of hostilities, and was even then engaged in his hazardous calling somewhere along the front.

Since the Colonel himself was in too feeble a state of health to think of going across the ocean to look for his wronged boy, Amos proposed that he and Jack undertake the sacred duty. And so they started, well supplied with money, and bearing besides a letter to General Kitchener, who had been, at one time, while in Egypt, a great friend of Colonel Turner, a man whose system of tactics he admired highly.

Meeting the “man of destiny,” upon whom England was placing most of her faith in this terrible crisis, the boys had no difficulty in securing from him a paper that later on smoothed over many difficulties they chanced to encounter while in the fighting zone.

Dozens of times they had made petty officials stare when they saw what a strong endorsement these American lads carried. Often men high in military authority had virtually made a salute at sight of the letter actually penned by Kitchener of Khartoum, whose name was a sign manual wherever men wore the khaki of the British army, as well as the Territorials, as the men from Canada, Australia and New Zealand were called.

After encountering many perils, all of which have been entertainingly described in previous pages, the boys had actually hit upon a strong clue. They heard about the astonishingly daring work of an Allied aviator named Frank Bradford, who, besides other feats, had made a long flight up into the Rhine country and severely damaged some ammunition stores and works of the Germans, returning in safety through dangers without limit.

The more the two lads investigated and asked questions the more firmly Amos became convinced that this Frank Bradford, winning fame as the most skillful of all the Allied air pilots, could be no other than his long-missing brother. For some reason of his own, Frank had chosen to be known by only a portion of his real name; but the descriptions tallied with the remembrance Amos had of his brother.

They had followed the trail from Belgium over into Northern France, and had high hopes of coming upon the object of their long search there; but only met with still another disappointment. Aviators were sorely needed in the region of the Dardanelles, where the Allied fleet was trying to force a passage through the narrow channel that led to the Sea of Marmora, and Constantinople. This peninsula was being desperately defended by an army of Turks, officered by hundreds of expert Germans, and with scores of forts and batteries to hold the assailants in check.

Frank had just a short time before started for the East, and thither, as soon as they could get aboard a steamer at Boulogne, the two boys followed him. They touched at Italy, and from there managed to get to a seaport in Greece, where the real difficulties of the undertaking began to confront them.

Just when they were ready to give up all hope of finding a chance to take passage on any sort of boat, and were even contemplating trying to purchase a small naphtha launch of some sort, they learned that a large powerboat was starting for some Turkish port. The commander, who went under the name of Captain Zenos, agreed to take them somewhere near the scene of operations, when they could find some way of getting in touch with British Headquarters, and learning what they wished to know about Frank Bradford.

They had been for some time passing cautiously among the numerous islands of the famous Ægean Sea, and were heading for the Gallipoli Peninsula that lies between it and the heavily fortified Dardanelles Straits.

After using the glass which his chum had handed him, Amos declared that it began to look as though they might be heading for the island mentioned.

“We are, by this time,” he went on to say, “getting somewhere near our destination, and, since we have paid in advance, I’ve been wondering whether the captain might not mean to land us at any old place, just to get rid of us.”

Jack glanced around before replying, as though to make certain there was no chance of his being overheard. At the time it happened that the crew of seven dark-faced and brawny Greeks were engaged in doing something up forward, under the supervision of their captain, so that Jack felt perfectly free to speak what he had on his mind.

“I’ve been meaning to mention a certain matter for some time, Amos, and it strikes me there’s no use holding it back any longer,” he said, half under his breath.

“Is it about Captain Zenos, Jack?” immediately demanded the other, who doubtless must have noticed the cautious look his companion gave toward the skipper and rough crew of the big powerboat that was churning the water so noisily.

“Just what it is,” came the immediate reply. “To tell you the honest truth, Amos, I don’t like the man’s looks any too well. He watches us from time to time as if he meant to play us some sort of mean trick. We must keep our eyes open, or something not down on the bills may happen to us pretty soon.”

CHAPTER II.
THE GUN RUNNER.

“But what do you think of the grizzled old chap?” asked Amos, managing to snatch a look at the skipper as he spoke.

“I can give only a guess at the most,” admitted Jack. “These Greeks have always been good sailors and regular water-dogs. You know how we have read about their exploits in ancient history. Scylla and Charybdis, the rock and the whirlpool, were among their most feared enemies, not to speak of the mermaids, who combed their long hair and sang to the sailors, trying to entice them to drop overboard and make love to them. As for Captain Zenos, I’m afraid he’s something of a bold adventurer.”

“I’ve thought, myself, he had the free-and-easy look of a regular buccaneer, with those rings in his ears, and that red handkerchief about his head,” said Amos. “As long as he carried out his contract with us I made up my mind it was really no business of ours, even if he turned out to be a pirate.”

“But watch him look over this way every little while, and you’ll feel that he’s got us on his mind. I think, Amos, he’s concluded we’re English boys, and, as some of these Greek sailors are apt to be hand in glove with the Turks, perhaps he may be plotting to hand us over to the enemy, expecting to profit thereby.”

“Whew! I wonder now!” whiffed Amos, as though the idea rather staggered him.

“Of course, as I said before, it’s pretty much all guess work with me,” Jack repeated, “but I’ve been fairly successful in reading faces. Honestly, if you asked me what I thought of our skipper, I’d say he might be a man who would turn on his best friend, if the pay was big enough.”

“I wish we knew the truth,” muttered Amos. “We might do something to put a peg in his nice little game. Each of us is carrying a shooting-iron now, for self-defense, even though we decided not to go armed when near the firing line, for fear of being roughly handled in case we fell into the hands of the Germans, as almost happened several times.”

“We must keep on our guard and watch out for treachery,” said Jack. “This happens to be one of those times when ‘an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure.’”

“Yes, and I’ll match your proverb with another when I say that ‘forewarned is forearmed.’ If that old chap wants to get the better of two wide-awake American boys like us he must rise pretty early in the morning, that’s all.”

“Listen, Amos. I was just wondering what sort of a cargo they have down below.”

“Well, up to this minute, I’ve never bothered my head about that part of it,” admitted the other. “All I knew was that it’s carefully covered over with tarpaulins, so that the water can’t get at it. I took it for granted they were carrying bags of flour, or something in the way of food, to Smyrna, and would fetch back figs or oranges, or some other fruit grown around there.”

“It might turn out we’d be able to get a line on Captain Zenos if only we knew what his cargo consisted of,” suggested Jack, softly yet significantly.

Amos started, and looked into his chum’s blue eyes.

“Ginger! does that mean you suspect him of being what might be called a blockade runner?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“Something along those lines,” asserted Jack. “Look him over again and tell me if you could ever imagine a better specimen of a daring adventurer. Doesn’t his every movement and expression say that Captain Zenos has spent the better part of his life dodging customs officers as a smuggler, or something like that?”

“Honest, Jack, I do believe you are right. Now that you’ve mentioned it, I think of several things I’ve noticed, and I agree with you. The old Greek skipper has all the ear-marks of a bold adventurer. The chances are he’s as unscrupulous as he is daring.”

“Then it strikes me we ought to be doing something before it’s too late, so as to find out what sort of a boat we’ve taken passage on,” Jack suggested, quietly.

“By demanding that he tell us, do you mean?” asked Amos.

“Well, hardly,” came the reply. “That would only hurry him along, I’m afraid. But there’s another way to find out. I might watch my chance and make an effort to see what lies under those snug tarpaulins down below!”

Amos gave a slight whistle, which was one of his customary ways of indicating surprise.

“Not a bad scheme, Jack, sure it isn’t, only I don’t see why you wouldn’t let me do the prowling around.”

“It was my idea, and you must expect me to be the one to do the job,” he was told, although at the same time Jack favored him with a smile of appreciation, for he knew just how willing Amos always was to undertake any manner of task, regardless of the labor involved or the peril that threatened.

“If, as you suspect, they turn out to be blockade runners, Jack, perhaps they mean to hide behind that island yonder until dark comes on, when they can slip past the torpedo-boat lines, and land their stuff.”

“As like as not,” agreed Jack. “As there’s no time to be lost, I reckon I might slip my cable right now while they’re all so busy up forward, and see if it’s possible to get a line on that mysterious cargo.”

“Good luck to you then,” Amos told him. “But before you go, give me some idea of what you want me to do in case I learn the captain suspects you and acts.”

“I hope that isn’t going to happen,” said Jack. “It would precipitate a crisis. I’d rather wait until it gets dark, when we might manage to slip the boat loose they are towing behind, and get to the land in it.”

“But what if discovery does come about?” persisted Amos.

“In that case there’s only one thing for you to do,” explained Jack; “stop the captain from coming down on top of me, even if you have to cover him with your gun. Then give our old signal, and I’ll be alongside in a jiffy.”

“All right, I’ll remember, though, like you, I certainly hope he won’t notice your absence, or, if he does, he may think you’ve just stepped back in the little cabin for something. I say that, to tell you the honest truth, I don’t like the idea of trying to offstand that ferocious sea-dog. He might rush me, and then I’d have to pull trigger, you know. So-long, Jack. Be back as soon as you can.”

“You may depend on that,” he was told, and with that Jack disappeared.

Amos continued to stand there, using the glass, and, occasionally, when he thought the skipper might be looking his way, he would turn and speak as though conversing with his chum, who apparently was lying down and beyond the range of Captain Zenos’ vision.

It was really very cleverly arranged by Amos, and did him much credit. Possibly only for this scheme he put into play the skipper may have become suspicious and advanced toward him to learn where Jack had gone to, which act would have precipitated a crisis.

A few minutes passed.

Amos had become intensely interested in a black smudge which, through his powerful binoculars, he had just discovered on the horizon. He found himself wondering what kind of vessel was leaving that low trail of smoke behind it. Was it a dreadnaught carrying the British Union Jack or just a transport bearing more forces of the Allies to help beat a way through the rock-bound strait that barred the route to Constantinople?

The captain and crew were still engaged forward, though occasionally the former would think to glance in the direction where his young passenger stood, glass in hand. Amos never forgot to carry out his scheme and make a great show of speaking to some one close by.

He had reason to believe that the little game quite deceived the skipper, for, to the boy’s relief, Captain Zenos made no effort to approach him on some plea or other, but really to investigate.

Why was Jack so long, Amos asked himself, and then decided it was his own impatience that made the seconds seem like minutes. Jack had to proceed with a due amount of caution; and, having accomplished his purpose, he might be expected back at any time now.

Even as Amos told himself this he heard a slight movement behind him, and, turning, discovered his chum. The first thing that struck him as particularly suggestive was the sober look on Jack’s face.

“He has found something out, that’s sure,” Amos told himself, with a sensation akin to a shiver running over his system; but it was the thrill of excitement and not fear that caused him to grit his teeth in expectancy.

In another minute Jack was beside him again.

“Give me the glass, and be pointing something out,” said the latter. “He’s watching us. Yes, I can see that smoke low down on the horizon; and the chances are it’s made by a British battleship going to or coming from the island where we understand they do all their repairs after being struck and damaged.”

“Did you find out anything?” asked the eager Amos.

“I sure did,” he was told.

“And the cargo they’ve got hidden under the canvas tarpaulins, Jack?”

“Consists of guns and ammunition, as well as big shells, Amos! Fact is, we’re aboard a gun runner carrying arms to the Turks!”

CHAPTER III.
THE THREATENING PERIL.

The importance of the news rather staggered Amos. He held his breath for nearly half a minute before venturing to say anything.

“That sounds pretty lively, take it from me, Jack. Guns and shells, you say, for the Turks on Gallipoli Peninsula?”

“Yes, and there’s much ammunition besides, powder and rifle cartridges. They must be using those up at a terribly rapid rate,” declared Jack.

“If a lighted match happened to be thrown carelessly under that lot of tarpaulins, an explosion would follow, eh, Jack?”

“I guess what’s passing through that rapid-fire brain of yours, Amos, but unless we’re attacked we really have no right to do anything as serious as that. You must remember that we’re neutral in this war.”

“Huh! we may be so far as the Germans and Austrians are concerned,” grumbled Amos, “but it’s a different thing with the Turks. Every hand in Europe has at times been raised against them. England saved them from being kicked out of Constantinople more than once. And when I see British and French soldiers scrapping with the dark-skinned Turk, I’m just bound to take sides, no matter what anybody says.”

“It must be in the blood,” admitted Jack. “Like father, like son, and after all you’ve got the soldier’s instinct handed down to you.”

“But tell me, Jack, if you’ve guessed it by now, why should the Greeks want to send all this ammunition over there, when the chances are before long they’ll be in the swim, too, and with the Allies as side partners?”

“Oh! it isn’t the Greeks as a people who do this underhand business,” the other explained. “You’ll always find some men ready to take risks when they see a big profit in the gun-running game. You know, Germany hasn’t been able to get as much ammunition across Roumania and Bulgaria as the Turks need; and so some of the German secret agents in Greece have organized a regular fleet of these big powerboats to carry cargoes through the lines of the Allies.”

“If they’re held up it would be a bad job for the skippers I reckon, Jack?”

“No question about it. They might be stood against a wall and shot.”

“But if the captain had this big game up his sleeve,” questioned Amos, who always wanted an explanation, “why should he bother taking a couple of American boys aboard, and perhaps spoil his other work?”

“The big sum we offered tempted him in the first place, I suppose,” explained Jack. “Then, with a crew of seven men, not counting himself, he took it for granted they could do what they liked with us.”

“You mean chuck us ashore on some measly little island in this Ægean Sea, to be marooned, goodness knows for how long?” suggested Amos.

“Perhaps that was the plan, and the island ahead of us the place selected for carrying out the plot. But Amos, for all we know he may have figured on taking us as prisoners ashore on the Peninsula, and handing us over to the Turks as English boys.”

“The dickens you say!” grumbled Amos, shaking his head, upset by the thought. “If I felt sure he had that idea passing through his head, I’d say we ought to do something to foil his plans, and right away in the bargain.”

“Well, I’ve evolved a scheme that may give us the boat,” was the staggering remark made by Jack. It fairly took Amos’ breath away.

“Then let me hear it, please, Jack. They’re still working in the bow there, and we’ve got some time to ourselves. The man at the wheel keeps us heading in the direction of that island, and it’s got something to do with their plans. They mean to either drop us ashore there and maroon us, or else lie to behind until the night wears on, when they can slip past the guard line of patrol boats.”

“When I was down below,” explained Jack, “it struck me what a commotion there would be aboard if smoke was suddenly discovered coming up out of the hold!”

“Oh! my stars! I should say so!” gasped Amos, looking startled. “If, as you say, the cargo is made up of high explosives, we would be shot up into the clouds, and none of us would ever know what had happened. But are you thinking of blowing up the old boat, Jack?”

“Well, not exactly,” was the reply, “but it might answer the same purpose if we could make the crew believe they were in danger of being scattered to the four winds. I think most of them would jump overboard and start swimming for the island we’re getting so close to.”

Amos began to chuckle. Evidently the humorous side of the thing struck him fully.

“Say, wouldn’t that be a great joke though, Jack, if we could scare the bunch into abandoning the boat! Why, what would hinder us from running it, and in the end turning the stuff over to the Allies?”

“You like the idea, then, do you?” questioned Jack.

“It’s a jolly good scheme, let me tell you, if only it could be worked out,” Amos assented—not doubtfully, either, for he had infinite faith in anything his chum attempted to do.

“Leave that part of it to me, Amos. I know just how I can fix things so that in a short time smoke, heavy, black smoke, will ooze out of the hold, though there’ll not be the least danger of an explosion.”

“Then, Jack, since we’ve decided that it’s a case of biting or being bitten, please get busy as quick as you can. I’m fairly wild to see what happens when that smoke is discovered. We must act as if we’re half frightened to death, even if we’re not supposed to know the nature of the cargo under our feet.”

Jack took another look around him. The island came in for a considerable share of his attention, for if there was to be a sudden exodus of captain and crew belonging to the powerboat, that was the only place to which they could go.

The afternoon was near its end and already the shades of approaching night had commenced to creep forth. He could see some slender masts outlined against the sky-line above one part of the land, and concluded there must be a small bay there, possibly a Greek village, and in which shelter from the storms that sweep the Mediterranean in the spring season of the year, these small fishing boats might be safe from damage.

“Listen!” cautioned Amos.

Both of them strained their ears to catch the distant grumble as of thunder that came over the water.

“It seems to come from the northeast, as near as I can make it out,” remarked Jack, presently.

“It must be the sound of the monster guns of a dreadnaught engaging some of the Turkish batteries or forts along the Dardanelles,” ventured the second lad.

“As like as not we’re listening to the sixteen-inch guns carried by the super-dreadnaught Queen Elizabeth,” admitted Jack. “I forget how many dozen miles they claim you can hear the sound, but it’s a long ways. Mark the location well, Amos.”

“That’s right,” added the other, with a wide smile, “because if later on we do the piloting of this craft we’ll want to know our course, so as to strike the line of guard-ships off the end of the Gallipoli Peninsula.”

They stood and listened as the strange complaining grumble came stealing again over the swelling sea. Perhaps, in that moment, both boys could see, in imagination, the great battleship wreathed in smoke after the discharge of a monster gun. Somehow the very thought thrilled them, for they had been anticipating just such a sight as this for some time now.

“Well, we may never have another chance as good as this,” remarked Jack, presently, in a singularly calm voice, which showed how completely he had control of his nerves; “so, perhaps, I’d better be ‘making hay while the sun shines.’”

“You’re away off there, Jack, because the sun has dropped behind the level horizon, and there’s only a glow to tell where he vanished. I’ll stand guard here and see that no one surprises you at work. But for the life of me I can’t guess how you’re going to make smoke, and run no danger of fire.”

“Oh! that’s easy,” chuckled Jack. “I’ve made too many a smudge to keep the skeeters off when in the open not to know the ropes. Just wait and see what happens.”

He was gone almost as soon as he had spoken the last word, and once more Amos began to sweep the horizon with his binoculars, as though eager to pick up some distant spot that would prove to be a vessel. It was becoming more and more difficult to make anything out, on account of the haze that extended with the coming of evening; but as we know, the main object Amos had in mind was to deceive the skipper, whenever he glanced that way.

Fainter grew the glow in the western sky. The far-off booming had also died away, so the only sounds that reached his ear consisted of the loud voice of the Greek captain berating his men for not doing something as he wished it.

Jack had been gone some little time, and Amos began to worry about him. It would really be too bad if, after all, the plan which he had considered so brilliant should be ruined by a sudden movement on the part of the skipper. They were nearly through their job, whatever it was, and the captain as well as the man who attended to all the cooking were likely to approach Amos.

If they saw Jack come up out of the hold they would instantly guess he had been prying around down there and making discoveries that had not been intended for the eyes of the two young passengers.

“Gee! I wish he would hurry,” Amos kept saying to himself, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then looked around to see if Captain Zenos was observing him, and upon finding that it was so, immediately pointed off somewhere as though showing his chum some object the glass had brought to his attention.

Just when Amos was giving up all hope of their being able to carry out the little scheme, once more he heard a rustling sound close by, and knew that Jack had crawled up out of the open hatch.

Fortunately this gap could not be seen by those forward, nor was the man at the wheel able to keep his eye upon it, thanks to a stack of empty crates that were possibly being returned to fruit shippers around Smyrna—at least that was what the boys had been told, though they now believed it to be a mere subterfuge calculated to divert suspicion from the real errand of the big Greek powerboat.

Jack was breathing hard as though he had rushed matters somewhat. Amos felt glad to have his chum once more at his right hand, for he had come to depend on the executive ability of Jack more than ever of late.

“Is the train laid, you black conspirator?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes, and given five minutes more you’ll see it come up with a rush,” he was told by Jack.

“All I can say is that you beat the Dutch when it comes to arranging things like this. And, Jack, whether the skipper comes back here or not doesn’t matter much any more, does it?”

“I think that’s just what is going to happen before many minutes,” announced the late hard worker, as he wiped his forehead, as the evening was warm. “Come, while we have half a chance, let’s move further away from the hatch. I’d like to be well off when the discovery is made that the boat’s afire!”

“Whew! I bet there’s going to be a whole lot of excitement around here to the square inch before long,” muttered Amos. “I’m going to whoop it up good and hearty too, when the row begins. The more noise we make the bigger will be the scare, it strikes me.”

They managed to edge along a little at a time, when no one was looking, so that presently they were able to come to a stand further away from the open hatch, from the edge of the coaming of which the cargo, covered with heavy tarpaulins, could be seen below.

“They’re making a move now, as if they meant to scatter,” reported Amos.

“Yes, and the captain together with the cook have started this way,” Jack ventured. “Look for something not down on the bills to happen at any second, for I reckon my smudge is about due to show itself all at once.”

Amos tried hard to suppress his feelings. He was afraid those keen orbs of the old Greek skipper might read the secret in his glowing eyes, so he once again clapped the glasses up to his face and appeared to be scanning the sea beyond the nearby island as though in search of something.

Still he knew when the captain and the cook drew near the spot where he and his chum stood. If only the discovery might be made just at that critical moment, Amos believed it would count for a good deal more than if they were forced to call out a little later and bring the skipper on deck.

All at once he heard a loud outcry. It was the cook who uttered it, and as the two boys turned quickly to see what he meant they discovered the sailor pointing toward the open hatch, his whole manner telling of sudden fear.

Then the boys whirled around to see what had so startled the sailor, who knew the explosive character of the cargo in the hold, since not even a lighted pipe had been allowed near the opening.

Well, Jack’s plan had apparently worked all right, for out of the hold rolled a curling billow of black smoke. How Jack had contrived to create all this Amos could not for the life of him understand; nor was that the time or place to ask questions. He simply remembered what he had said his plan would be, and at sight of that column of smoke he let out a yell that would have shamed some of those wild cowboy friends with whom Jack, mounted on half-tamed bronchos, once upon a time had been wont to race over the plains.

CHAPTER IV.
HOW THE TRICK WORKED.

“Fire! Fire!” whooped Amos, showing the most intense excitement, for if there was any chance to add to the confusion of the moment he meant to do it.

He had but one object in view, which was to so fill the Greek crew with consternation that they would, to a man, leap overboard, and leave the apparently doomed vessel to their erstwhile passengers.

The plan began immediately to show signs of bearing fruit. As has been said before, the crew knew full well what sort of a dangerous cargo they were carrying. High explosives have a habit of going off when brought in contact with a tongue of flame. When, therefore, they saw the black smoke pouring out of the hold their first thought was that, in a few seconds, there would come a terrific crash, and the powerboat would be scattered in atoms over the surface of the sea.

Their loud cries of alarm rang out, as the boys had anticipated. One who by some chance was close to the rail instantly plunged overboard, vanishing under the water like a stone, and doubtless bent on keeping there as long as he could hold his breath, meanwhile swimming desperately away from the still moving craft.

A second and yet a third man saw him go, and evidently thought that the only way out of the fix, for they started to imitate his example.

Not so the skipper, who was evidently made of different stuff. The boys in commenting on his determined looks had not guessed far from wrong when they decided that Captain Zenos was a reckless customer who had run many a blockade for the sake of gain, just as he was now trying to get guns and ammunition to the sorely pressed Turks on Gallipoli Peninsula.

He saw the smoke just as soon as the rest of the crew, but instead of thinking of his safety, the old sea dog’s first idea was to try and save the boat and cargo, even at great personal risk.

What he shouted in his lion-like voice the boys did not know, not being proficient Greek scholars. They could give a pretty good guess, however, that he was roaring out orders to his men to follow him into the hold and try to put out the fire that had so mysteriously broken out when they were off their guard.

He made direct for the open hatch from which that dense smoke oozed. Three men followed on his heels, being possibly the possessors of the same reckless nature as himself, or else descendants of those old-time Spartans who would obey orders from their superiors blindly, no matter if they had to charge into the very jaws of death.

Jack was observing all this with the most intense interest. He even noted that the man at the wheel stuck to his duty. From this fact he supposed the skipper had not forgotten him when roaring out his orders, and that he had been directed to stay where he was, come what may.

There were three in the water by now, and doubtless all making desperately for the nearby shore of the island, anxious to put many fathoms between themselves and the doomed craft before the terrible explosion came.

Captain Zenos snatched up a bucket that stood near. Leaning over the rail he flung it downward and once more he drew it up filled to the brim with salt water.

Each of the three sailors followed his example with exact precision, like men who knew the value of obedience in an emergency. By this time the skipper had reached the open hatch. That dense smoke showed no signs of abating; in fact, if anything, it was oozing forth in greater volume than ever, thanks to Jack’s clever arrangements below.

That dense smoke showed no signs of abating.—[Page 44]

One last look the valiant skipper gave around, as if to make sure that his crew had not entirely deserted him. Then without the slightest hesitation he plunged into the opening and vanished from view.

Jack and Amos could not repress cries of sincere admiration. If they had from some instinctive reason disliked the battle-scarred old veteran of the blockade and gun-running game, they now admired his great nerve. Evidently, with all his faults, and they were many, Captain Zenos could never be accused of cowardice.

One, two, three figures took the drop after him, not one of the trio showing the slightest hesitation. Perhaps these men had long been associated with the owner of the big powerboat, and imbibed a full share of his daring.

The tail-end man did take a look around before dropping out of sight, and Jack imagined he felt he might be saying good-by to the bright world, for it certainly did seem as though the chances were ten to one they might never come forth again.

As far as it went this was all very fine. Three were in the water madly racing for the shore of the island; another trio had accompanied the leader below; and the last member of the crew stood by the wheel, though the speed of the boat had been reduced until she was now beginning to pass but slowly through the twilight sea.

But Jack realized that as soon as those groping through the dense smoke below found that its source lay in a galvanized bucket, and that the smudge had apparently been created for some distinct purpose, their suspicions would be immediately aroused.

Since they would speedily come pouring forth as furious as could be and turn upon the two boys for an explanation of the trick, it was up to Jack and Amos to prevent such an unhappy consummation.

“The hatch—we must clap it on, and batten the same down!” cried Jack.

Even as he spoke he was jumping toward the smoke cloud, with Amos close at his heels. What few words Jack had spoken revealed the plan of campaign to his comrade, who was only too ready to assist in the deal.

The man at the wheel must have stared hard at seeing the two boys thus start forward instead of jumping overboard like those others had done. Perhaps he even gave them credit for the same species of sublime courage that the skipper possessed. When, presently, he saw what they were doing, astonishment kept him from trying to interfere until it was too late to do any good.

Seizing hold of the heavy hatch, the two boys managed to throw it into place. There was means for securing it so that even if great waves swept over the low deck of the powerboat they could hardly tear the hatch loose, and flood the hold.

Thanks to his habit of observation, Jack knew all about this, and also how the fastenings were applied. Amos, taking his cue from his comrade, also gave such assistance as lay in his power; and between them they speedily managed to accomplish their desired end.

Hardly had they succeeded in doing this than there came heavy pounding on the other side of the hatch. Evidently the skipper had learned how he had been made the victim of what he would call a “scurvy trick”; and was fairly wild to force a way out of the hold, so that he could punish those responsible for it.

Jack had not forgotten the man at the wheel, who had it in his power, should the inclination come to him, to injure the engine of the boat in some way, so as to prevent any further progress.

As this would be greatly to the disadvantage of the two comrades, Jack did not mean to permit the man to have the least chance of carrying out his intention.

Leaving Amos standing by the battened hatch, pistol in hand, Jack rushed straight toward the man at the wheel. He covered him with his weapon, and, under the belief that the fellow knew English, for he had conversed with several of the crew before then, the boy called out sternly:

“Stay where you are, and hold the wheel, and no injury will come to you. There is no fire and we will not be blown up. It was a trick to get the captain down in the hold. He is our prisoner, and we expect to run this boat from now on. Do you understand what I am saying?”

The sailor looked a little dazed as though events were happening with such wonderful rapidity that he could hardly keep track of them. Still he seemed to be able to understand English, especially when accompanied by the significant gestures Jack was making with the little automatic pistol.

He immediately elevated his right hand. That was doubtless intended to show his willingness to submit to whatever fate the daring captors of the powerboat felt inclined to impose upon him.

“Start up the engine again and keep it going full speed!” was the first order the new skipper gave the pilot.

Presently the boat began to pick up, as the propeller churned the water. It felt good to Amos, standing there and listening to the terrific pounding on the lower side of the hatch. He took off his hat and waved it about his head as he gave a loud, boyish hurrah that came from the depths of his heart.

No doubt that organ was pounding against his ribs with the furious energy of a trip-hammer; but apparently the danger point had been safely passed, and they had a free course open before them.

The three men who jumped overboard had meanwhile managed to reach shallow water. They were standing, up to their waists in the sea, at what they considered a safe distance from the powerboat, staring at the now moving craft as though unable to believe their eyes.

The smoke had ceased coming up from the hold as soon as the hatch was clapped on, and, with the starting of the engine, the boat showed signs of leaving the unfortunate trio in the lurch—at least they must have considered themselves in a bad box at the time, though later developments proved that they were exceedingly fortunate.

Loud rang out their shouts as they made all sorts of wild gestures, imploring their companions not to desert them. Perhaps the simple fellows, not aware of the dramatic acts that were taking place aboard the boat, imagined the skipper meant to discipline them for deserting when there was need of their services.

Amos waved his hand hilariously toward the three. He was feeling in a merry mood. The bright scheme which Jack originated had turned out so successful!

One look gave Jack his course, and he impressed it upon the pilot.

“We want to head straight as an arrow for the Dardanelles,” he said sternly. “You will be all right as long as you behave, but the first sign of treachery and it means your end. Our lives are at stake now and we will shoot you down like a dog if you turn on us. We want to run across some warship of the Allies, to whom this boat and its cargo can be surrendered. And if you behave we will guarantee that you are let go free. Get that?”

The man had listened intently, watching every gesture made by Jack. At the conclusion of the short harangue he nodded his head and even allowed a grim smile to flit athwart his dark face. Being a daring chap himself he could admire an exhibition of American pluck such as the two boys were displaying. Anyone who managed to get the better of a sly old sea-dog like Captain Zenos must be pretty wide-awake, according to his opinion.

“I play you the game straight, I promise you!” he assured Jack, who, however, did not take his word for it, knowing how treacherous some men can be when conditions change; and he meant to keep the Greek pilot under constant surveillance until their plans had been fully carried out.

CHAPTER V.
CONTRABAND OF WAR.

“What’s the next move on the program, Jack?” asked Amos, as he hurried over to the side of his chum, while the pounding on the hatch kept up furiously.

“I’ve given the course to the man at the wheel, and told him we will shoot at the first sign of treachery,” replied the other.

“That sounds good to me!” Amos declared. “Do you think we can keep on into the night, and come slap up against any of those war vessels?”

“I know the points of the compass,” he was told. “I’ve also got a chart of this sea, as well as the Dardanelles, so I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to keep up a straight course. We know about where we’re headed, and I’m in hopes of picking up the searchlight of some battleship that is on the move to keep from being torpedoed.”

“I’m willing to trust everything to you, Jack. How about those chaps below decks? If they should ever break loose there will be trouble right away!”

“It’s a part of our business to make sure they don’t break loose then,” the other remarked, firmly. “I’m going to tell Captain Zenos something. He’s got common-sense, I reckon, even if he is a fire-eater.”

“All I’m afraid of is that he may take a crazy notion to strike a match and blow up the boat rather than surrender it,” said Amos, uneasily.

Even that prospect did not seem to alarm steady-going Jack.

“Don’t worry,” he told his companion. “Few men ever deliberately sacrifice themselves in order to bring about the downfall of others. In forty-nine cases out of fifty a would-be assassin of royalty takes precious good care to look out for a safe getaway. That is what defeats their plans so often.”

“I guess you’re right about that, Jack,” admitted Amos. “I’ve read so along the same line. They say that if a man is firmly decided to give up his own life to the cause, all the precautions in the wide world couldn’t prevent any ruler from getting his finish.”

“Remember what we had last spring in our history class about that general besieging ancient Rome, and who had a young Roman brought before him, caught in the camp. The youth told him he was one of a hundred who had sworn to take the life of the vandal general; and to show his fearless nature, thrust his hand into a fire and held it there until it was consumed.”

“Sure, I remember that,” said Amos, “and the general, knowing that he was a doomed man if he stayed around there much longer, with ninety-nine other young Romans after his life, all built on the same fearless model, soon found it convenient to call off the siege and go home.”

“Well, after I’ve explained to Captain Zenos that he will surely be given his liberty later on, any intention of blowing up the boat he may be entertaining will have passed away. Bold man that he is, all the same he can believe that ‘he who fights and runs away may live to fight another day.’ Now, you stand here and watch our pilot every second of the time, while I speak to the skipper.”

Jack bent down when he reached the hatch. The pounding continued, and was supplemented by loud cries from the men below.

With a monkey-wrench he had picked up on the way, Jack started to himself give a few powerful blows upon the hatch. Immediately the noise below ceased.

“Hello! Captain Zenos!” the boy called out, knowing that the other could speak English as well as his own native tongue, for he was a man who had traveled over pretty much all the world.

“Who is that speaking?” he heard a grumbling voice say.

“It is one of your passengers,” answered Jack. “We have captured your vessel and part of your crew has been left behind, having landed on the island. The rest is below with you.”

“But who are you, and what does this mean?” demanded the bewildered captain.

“Just what we told you we are, two American boys who are looking for some one who is with the Allies at the Dardanelles,” Jack explained.

“Why have you done this?” continued the prisoner of the hold.

“Because we believed you meant us harm, and we decided to strike first. So I made the smudge below in order to cause the crew to leap overboard and abandon the craft. But you were too brave a man to be frightened, and we had to shut you down below or lose the game. I want to make a bargain with you, Captain.”

The man waited some little time before replying. Evidently he was trying to get a firm grip on the conditions by which he was surrounded, so that he could play his best card. Then he called out again as though in anger.

“Do you know what I have a good mind to do, boy? I have matches with me here, and the powder can be easily reached. One match would be enough to finish us all, and we could go into glory together.”

“I understand that, Captain,” said Jack, coolly, as though not a bit afraid the other would put his threat into execution. “We are willing to take our chances. You would be a fool to end your life that way when you can live to enjoy other exploits.”

“But if I fall into the hands of the British they will surely shoot me!” urged the man below.

“I give you my word of honor that they will let you and your men go free, on condition that you do nothing to injure the boat or the cargo. Is it a bargain, Captain Zenos? We are both armed, and will hesitate at nothing, even should you succeed in breaking loose, which we do not mean to have happen. Be reasonable, and, after all, you will lose only your boat. There are other craft to be had for money, but no one can get a second life, you know, if he loses the one he has.”

Jack heard the man actually laugh harshly. He believed he had gone about it the right way to get results.

“You are certainly a boy after my own heart, and since there does not seem to be any other thing to do, I agree to your terms,” the captain called out. “Only I trust you will not deceive us. If I thought I might be held as a prisoner of war, or stood up to be shot, nothing would keep me from striking a match and ending it all now.”

“I have given you my word of honor, Captain; that is all I can do,” Jack told him, a little anxious still, for he knew the man was a reckless blade, and after all he might act on a sudden whim.

“Well, let it be a bargain then,” called the skipper; “but I hope you will not keep us many hours down in this hot hold. We would smother, I fear.”

“Inside of a couple of hours we hope to run across some war vessel, when you will be released and allowed to enter the small boat to make for the shore just as you please.”

Satisfied that he had accomplished the purpose he had in view, Jack turned away. He knew that those below could hardly break out of their confinement within a certain length of time, at least, and, while he did not mean to forget them, he wished to turn his attention to another quarter.

It was getting dark. The twilight had fled, and it was no longer possible to see for any distance over the heaving surface of the sea. The island where the men had landed was far astern, and looked like a dark blot amidst the gathering gloom.

Glancing aloft, Jack could see the first stars beginning to appear. He took his bearings in this way, and as long as those heavenly lanterns remained in sight there would be no fear of their going astray. He had tramped many a time across trackless wastes of land with only a star to guide him; he felt the same confidence when upon the sea.

“We must first of all see to the lights,” he told Amos as he joined him. “With all these dangers hanging over our heads it would be silly to think of keeping in the dark.”

“Let me look after them,” said Amos. “I watched the man who did the job last night, and I think I’ve got it all down pat.”

“After you’ve finished with the lights, Amos, it might be as well to rummage around and stir up something to eat. I’m as hungry as a wolf. There must be food aboard, of course.”

“Trust me for knowing where it’s kept,” chuckled the other. “I never mean to be starved to death if keeping my eyes wide open will prevent it. Sure, there’s plenty of grub close by. Watch me rustle it out when the time comes.”

He soon had the lanterns lighted; one hung to show the figure of the helmsman as he stood there at the wheel and guided the boat; and two others, the one red and the other green, on either side of the boat, so that they might not be run down in the gloom of night.

After this had all been attended to, Amos, true to his promise, washed his hands in the tin basin so as to free them from the kerosene odor, and then proceeded to produce all manner of food from the cook’s little galley.

They made no attempt to cook anything, for the conditions would not allow of their going to such trouble. Hungry boys are as a rule not at all particular about the quality of their food, so long as the quantity is right; and not a single complaint was made regarding that supper, though it was crude in its appointments, and eaten under strange surroundings.

Even the man at the wheel was remembered, and thankfully received a portion of the simple spread, which he proceeded to devour as though he might be no longer troubling himself about the immediate future.

“Now for a long and weary watch,” said Amos, after only half an hour or more had elapsed since the capture of the powerboat.

“It may not be as long as you think,” remarked Jack.

“Why do you say that, Jack? Is it just on general principles, or have you some idea?”

“Well, we are making all of ten miles an hour, it strikes me,” was the answer; “and when twice that time has passed you can see we ought to be somewhere near that battleship we heard firing. Besides, I soon expect to catch sight of their searchlights playing every-which-way.”

“That’s so, Jack,” admitted Amos, immediately convinced. “When warships are in a dangerous locality, and there’s danger all the time of torpedoes, as well as floating mines, I reckon they do keep their searchlights busy all the night in order to discover any creeping enemy.”

“They know these Turks to be clever schemers,” added Jack, “and bold in the bargain, so they keep on the lookout all the time.”

“Then, if we’re discovered, what’s our program going to be, Jack?”

“We want to get busy right away and run up a white flag, to show that we mean to make no resistance. Then they’ll likely send a boat, and board as we lie to. We can surrender the cargo to the officer in charge, first of all asking him to make good our word to Captain Zenos and his crew.”

“Perhaps, to make doubly sure, we might let them take to the small boat and skip out before we surrender the vessel,” suggested Amos.

“Now that isn’t a bad scheme, if it can be worked,” admitted Jack. “The Allies might want to hold these men and I’d hate to have my promise broken.”

They sat there for a long time, now and then exchanging a few sentences or going about to make sure there was no danger of the hatch being pried up, thus allowing the prisoners of the hold to escape and make trouble.

Then what Jack had long been expecting came about. A white shaft of light suddenly shot out of the darkness and began to move along, swiftly covering considerable space, and revealing the choppy waves as though in broad daylight. It was the powerful searchlight on board some war-vessel, possibly a battleship of the Allied fleet.

CHAPTER VI.
IN THE GLOW OF THE SEARCHLIGHT.

Jack had their course changed a trifle so as to bear direct for the source of that long ray of brilliant light.

“See if you can find a sheet, or anything white, that can be fastened up to show we do not mean to offer resistance,” he told Amos, who soon had the “flag of truce,” as he called it, in place.

“Seems to me, Jack, that if we mean to give the captain his chance to get away we ought to be doing it before that light gets us,” suggested Amos, when he had once more joined his chum.

“It is a bit dangerous,” the other admitted, “but if worked right, it might be done.”

“We could let them come up, one at a time, and climb into the boat, after we made sure they carried no weapons,” suggested Amos.

Jack weighed the chances. To be on the safe side he knew they would be wise to let things go as they were and trust to the officer on the boarding boat to let them keep their word to the men. Jack thought a good deal of his word, which, once given, he would dislike to see broken.

“I guess Captain Zenos must be a well-known character among the commanders of the Allied vessels,” he mused. “As he’s probably run more than a few cargoes of high explosives past their lines they would like to wind up his career. You see, he has caused a heap of damage by means of the shells he’s smuggled across; and they would want to shoot him. We’ll give him a chance, Amos.”

On his part Amos was not unwilling. Ever since he had seen the utterly fearless way in which the smuggler and gun-runner had dashed into that hold, not knowing but what the expected explosion might come at any second, the boy had conceived a certain amount of admiration for him.

“But we’ve got to be mighty careful, Jack,” he warned the other. “These men are desperate, and not to be trusted.”

“We’ll risk that, Amos. Now, attend to me, and keep your pistol ready for use at a second’s notice.”

He pounded on the hatch.

“Hello! down below!” Jack called out.

“What do you want now?” demanded a voice which they recognized as belonging to the gun-runner captain.

“We are close to the fleet, and, being afraid that they might want to hold you and your men, we would be willing to let you drop into the small boat and row away, if you agreed to certain conditions.”

The man on the other side of the closed hatch seemed to ponder over the proposal. Evidently he realized that the boys meant to do the right thing, being a little afraid that after having given their promise of immunity they could not “deliver the goods.”

“I understand what you mean,” he presently called out. “What do you want us to promise you, lad?”

“First that you will pass up every weapon you have on your persons. Then, one by one, we will let you come on deck, and get into the boat towing astern. We will stop the engine so you may have no trouble. When all are aboard the rope will be cut, and you can lose yourselves in the darkness. The sea is nearly calm so there need be no trouble about getting ashore. What do you say? You will have to hurry, for at any minute now the searchlight will pick us up.”

“What you say sounds to me like you meant to do the right thing,” called the captain. “Loosen the hatch on one side, and we will hand over our firearms. Then, as you say, we can crawl out, one by one, and take our places in the small boat.”

Jack believed that his plan was working out finely. At the same time not for one moment was he disposed to relax his vigilance. He even managed to keep the man at the wheel under his eye, as the fellow easily saw.

They loosened the fastenings of the hatch and raised one side a few inches. A formidable six-shooter was thrust through, of which Jack immediately took possession. It was followed by two others, showing that some of the sailor men had made it a practice to go armed.

“That is all the firearms we have, I give you my word,” said the captain.

“Then let one of the men creep out, and tell him he must get into the small boat without losing a second of time. Also warn him, Captain, that we will shoot at the first sign of treachery.”

Presently a man’s head appeared in view, and then he commenced to crawl out of the narrow opening. The boys kept him covered, and once he gained the deck he was made to scuttle along, clamber over the stern, and take his place in the tender that had been towing behind all through the voyage. It was amply large enough to hold the five men without peril of being overcrowded.

No sooner had they disposed of this man than a second was allowed to come up; after him came the third sailor, with Captain Zenos himself bringing up the rear.

The daring blockade-runner instantly saw the flash of the searchlight and must have realized that the American boys meant to treat him fairly. The loss of his boat may have been a bitter pill for him to swallow; but he was accustomed to taking things as he found them.

“You have hit me a hard blow,” he told Jack. “If ever I get a chance to turn the tables on you, I will; but I want to say you are brave boys, and I admire your pluck. I was always told American boys beat the world that way. We may meet again some of these days. Good-night!”

With that he, too, clambered over the side and took his place in the small boat.

“Have you room for one more, Captain?” asked Jack, and upon receiving an affirmative response he turned to the man at the wheel, saying: “Here, you, get aboard with the rest. We might as well make a clean sweep while we’re about it. I’ll take charge of the wheel when we start again. I know enough about engines to run a tub like this.”

The last of the blockade-runners did not wait upon the order of his going. He seemed only too well pleased to accompany his chief. The prospect of being left behind to fall into the hands of the enemy was not attractive to him.

As soon as this fellow had taken his seat in the boat, Amos, who was hovering nearby, cast the painter off, and immediately the small craft fell astern, for the powerboat still had some headway.