[Illustration: cover art] THE MYSTERY SHIP GLORIES OF SEA AND AIR SERIES _By_ _PERCY F._ _WESTERMAN_ THE MYSTERY SHIP THE RIVAL SUBMARINES BILLY BARCROFT OF THE R.N.A.S. A WATCH-DOG OF THE NORTH SEA _Publishers_ PARTRIDGE LONDON [Illustration: "THE MYSTERY BOAT WAS MOVING SLOWLY, HER TRIPLE TORPEDO-TUBES READY WITH THEIR DEADLY COMPLEMENTS."] THE MYSTERY SHIP A STORY OF THE "Q" SHIPS DURING THE GREAT WAR BY PERCY F. WESTERMAN _Author of_ _"The Fritzstrafers," "Billy Barcroft of the R.N.A.S."_ _"A Watchdog of the North Sea," "A Sub of_ _the R.N.R.," etc., etc._ ILLUSTRATED BY A. MORROW Publishers PARTRIDGE London _Made in Great Britain_ _First published 1920_ CONTENTS CHAPTER I. THE TWO SUB-LIEUTENANTS II. ON PATROL III. SUNK IN ACTION IV. THE SPY V. THE PROWESS OF KAPITAN VON PREUGFELD VI. PICKED UP VII. A U-BOAT OF SORTS VIII. VON PREUSSEN'S BLANK DAY IX. HOW THE LIGHTERS FARED X. THE SALVAGE SYNDICATE XI. VON PREUGFELD'S RESOLVE XII. PRISONERS OF WAR XIII. A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE XIV. A DOUBLE DECOY XV. CONFIRMED SUSPICIONS XVI. COVERING HIS TRACKS XVII. MUTINY XVIII. A BIG PROPOSITION XlX. THE TABLES TURNED XX. THE END OF U 247 XXI. BLUFFED XXII. ON THE TRAIL XXIII. "PREPARE FOR IMMEDIATE ACTION" XXIV. IN THE HOUR OF HIS TRIUMPH XXV. TRAPPED XXVI. HER LAST BOLT XXVII. BATTERED BUT UNDAUNTED XXVIII. THE HOMECOMING XXIX. WHO FIRED THAT TORPEDO? XXX. A NIGHT OF COINCIDENCES XXXI. THE GREAT SURRENDER XXXII. A NAVY IMPOTENT XXXIII. THE RELIEF VESSEL XXXIV. THE SCUTTLING XXXV. WHAT THEY FOUGHT FOR THE MYSTERY SHIP CHAPTER I THE TWO SUB-LIEUTENANTS "BELOW there! You in, George?" George--otherwise Kenneth Meredith, sub-lieutenant R.N.V.R. and second-in-command of H.M. Motor Launch 1071--deliberately blotted five lines of his weekly epistle to the fond ones at home. Unperturbed by a heavy fusillade upon the deck--the sound being caused by a broken golf club vigorously manipulated by an as yet invisible person--Meredith dexterously threw into envelopes and blotting-pad into a conveniently placed rack, rammed the cork into the glass ink-bottle, and thrust his fountain-pen, which either "founted" like a miniature Niagara or else obstinately refused to "fount" at all, into the breast pocket of his monkey-jacket.