The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great WarWesterman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
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The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great War
Westerman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
Adventure stories; Motorcycles -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
Again he entered the cabin. Kenneth was still sound asleep. Yvonne
was seated on the opposite bunk, watching him as zealously as a
vigilant sentry.
"What are you looking for, Rollo?" she whispered.
"A telescope."
She arose and, steadying herself by means of the cabin table, made her
way to the for'ard bulkhead. Drawing back a curtain, she took down the
required article from a rack.
"It is a nurse's duty to become quickly acquainted with her
surroundings," she said with a smile, as she handed Rollo the telescope.
The lad returned to the cockpit. Standing with his back against the
after bulkhead of the cabin he raised the telescope. It was some time,
owing to the motion of the boat, before he could get the instrument to
bear.
"I must rouse Kenneth," he said calmly.
"Why?" asked Thelma. "Tell me: is there anything wrong? I will not be
frightened."
"There is, I fear," he answered. "Unless I am very much mistaken,
yonder craft is a German torpedo-boat, and she is standing in pursuit
of us."
CHAPTER XXX
The Victorious White Ensign
"Kenneth, old man, wake up!"
Everest opened his eyes listlessly. Aroused in the midst of the sleep
of utter exhaustion, he did not at once realize his surroundings.
"What's up?" he asked drowsily, with a suspicion of resentment in his
voice.
"Come out into the cockpit," said Rollo. "I want you to see if we are
on the right course. We passed the tramp steamer some time ago."
"Then why didn't you call me?" demanded Kenneth, displaying
considerable alacrity, and making a dash for the cabin door.
"Stay here a little longer, Yvonne," said Rollo to the Belgian girl as
she began to follow her patient. The lad's chief anxiety was to keep
her in ignorance of the new danger that threatened them.
"Right as rain," announced Kenneth, glancing at the compass.
"Look astern, old man," said his chum in a low voice. "I didn't want
to alarm Yvonne. Thelma knows, though. That torpedo-boat coming up
hand over fist is a German."
"Never!" ejaculated Kenneth. The idea of a war vessel flying the
Kaiser's black-cross ensign on the high seas seemed incredible.
"Fact," rejoined Rollo. "Take this telescope."
"You're right, by Jove!" exclaimed Kenneth after a brief survey. "We
must carry on as long as we can. If they fire at us we must stop, for
the sake of the girls."
The motor was running at its utmost possible number of revolutions, yet
the boat was no match for the grey-painted craft now a mile and a half
astern.
The German torpedo-boat made no sign of firing; she merely hung on
doggedly in the wake of the motor-craft, slowly yet surely diminishing
the distance between them. The haze had now lifted considerably, so
that the range of vision extended for quite five miles. All around,
save for the pursuing craft, the horizon was unbroken.
"Perhaps those chaps think that their rotten spy, Jules de la Paix, is
on board," suggested Rollo. "They may have a prearranged plan to pick
him up at sea."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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