The Mystery Ship: A Story of the 'Q' Ships During the Great WarWesterman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
General
The Mystery Ship: A Story of the 'Q' Ships During the Great War
Westerman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Naval operations -- Juvenile fiction
"You're right, Cumberleigh," said Pyecroft. "It's one of those that
left Auldhaig this morning. I saw them go out. That red-haired Scot
chap--McIntosh, you know him--was in charge."
"Hanged if he is now, at any rate," added Jefferson. "An' the old
thing is well down by the stern. I believe she's sinking."
It took ten minutes for the _Pip-squeak_ to close with X-lighter No.
5. Running up into the wind on the lee side, Jefferson got way off
the boat.
"How about it, you fellows?" he inquired. "Think it's safe to run
alongside?"
"Might have a shot at it, old thing," replied Cumberleigh. "She
hasn't altered her trim during the last five or ten minutes. I say,
do we get salvage on a job like this, or is there some rotten
regulation debarring underpaid officers from making a bit? What do
you make of her, Fennelburt? You are a marine expert."
Von Preussen, who had been maintaining a discreet silence, ventured
an opinion that it might be safe to board her provided the
sailing-boat were kept alongside.
"Good enough," replied Cumberleigh. "You, Blenkinson and I will
comprise the boarding-party; the others stand by in the boat. _En
avant, mes braves!_ Over the top you go, and the best of luck."
Fending off the _Pip-squeak_ lest her planks should be stove in
against the massive rubbing-strake of the lighter, the three men
contrived to effect a safe transhipment. A brief examination revealed
the fact that the derelict had been in collision and that she had
been badly holed right aft. The engine-room was flooded, and only the
iron bulkhead between it and the hold had kept the craft from
foundering.
"Now what's to be done?" inquired Blenkinson. "We can't tow her in.
That's a moral cert."
"No, but we can send for a tug," said Cumberleigh. "Jefferson can
sail back to Auldhaig in about an hour even if he doesn't fall in
with a tug or even an M.L. on the way."
"What about 'The Maid of the Mountains'?" asked Blenkinson.
"We'll cut the appointment," replied the captain, with a laugh.
"Excuse--the exigencies of the Service."
"But," protested von Preussen, "the lighter might founder. We should
be in an awkward predicament if she did, the boat having left us. I
would suggest that we all go back in the _Pip-squeak_ and report the
matter."
"I agree," added Blenkinson. "After all's said and done, we don't
stand a chance of getting anything out of the deal. And what matters
if the old tub does sink? Her value is but a mere fleabite out of six
millions a day."
But Captain Cumberleigh was made of sterner stuff. Once having set
his hand to this maritime plough, he was loth to turn back.
"We'll stick it," he decided resolutely. "Jefferson will cruise
around in case of an accident. If we find we are drifting on shore we
can let go that anchor. I don't see there's much to get the wind up
about."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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