Dave Darrin and the German Submarines. Or, Making a Clean-up of the Hun Sea Monsters
TekstCHAPTER XXIII – THE FIGHT TO BRING BELLE BACK
It had really been Belle’s white, motionless face that had floated by. She had been in the boat Dave saw shattered by the shell.
Nor did Darrin once lose sight of her as he struck out fiercely until, when he was within fifteen feet of his goal, Belle sank without cry or voluntary movement.
Darrin made a great lunge forward and dived. He was seeking her, desperately!
Behind came that other swimming figure.
So true had been the aim of Darrin’s lunging leap forward, that now, as he went deeper, one of his hands touched her. He seized Belle and shot up to the surface.
“A hand right here, sir!” sounded the cheery, enthusiastic voice of Boatswain’s Mate Runkle. “Let me help you, sir.”
Of a truth Dave was in need of help. His emotion had spent him more than the mere physical effort had done. He felt limp, weak, but the infection of Runkle’s cheerful, cool tone made Dave once more master of himself.
“Take it easy, sir,” advised the boatswain’s mate. “They’re lowering a boat.”
“Can you see the boat?”
“No, sir.”
“Hear it?”
“No, sir.”
“Then how do you know – ”
“I know an American man-o’-war’s crew, sir. They wouldn’t be doing anything else. All we have to do, sir, is to keep her afloat. I’ll stake my soul on that, sir.”
And then Dave did see a boat come into view, and heard the sturdy splash of oars – heard the coxwain’s brisk orders.
So weak was Dave that he almost wished to clasp Belle to him that they might sink together and be at rest. To take her from the water only to lay her in a grave on shore – what did it really matter after all? And for himself – what?
“Stand by, bowman there!” rapped out the coxwain’s voice, as the small boat shot along under rapid headway. “The boat-hook! The woman first!”
Deftly the hook was caught in Belle’s soaked garments.
“And now the skipper!” called Runkle, who had transferred his support to Dave Darrin. “As for me, stand clear! I’ll pull myself aboard.”
Other boats came out from the destroyer. These, with the numerous boats from the sunken liner and a number of rafts that dotted the water, all had to be collected. The “Grigsby’s” whistle broke hoarsely on the air, calling them in.
The boat that carried Darrin and Belle was the first to reach the destroyer. Dave bore his wife up over the side.
“I shall take her to my quarters,” he informed Lieutenant Fernald. “See that the surgeon is sent there at once. Runkle, you are all right?”
“Never more so, sir,” replied the boatswain’s mate.
“Go below and put on dry clothing.”
Dave staggered along with his precious burden into his own quarters, which he never used on a patrolling cruise. He laid Belle tenderly on his bunk and called up the bridge.
“Mr. Fernald, are the passengers from the ‘Griswold’ being taken aboard?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any women among them?”
“Several, sir.”
“Some that do not require attention themselves and can lend a hand here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then will you find two who will volunteer to come here, and ask them to do so immediately?”
“At once, sir.”
By the time that Darrin had hung up the instrument, Hunter, the ship’s medical officer, had reached the doorway. He came in and bent over the figure on the berth.
“Not a chance,” he said, briefly. “Drowned. But I do not believe, Darrin, that she suffered. There was a shock – ”
“Shock?” Dave Darrin repeated. “Yes – a shell exploded in her boat.”
“I do not believe she was wounded,” went on Hunter. “It must have been the shock. She probably collapsed from the force of the explosion, and the water did the rest.”
A messenger knocked at the doorway, then introduced two middle-aged women, who stepped inside promptly.
“You will do something, of course, Hunter?” Dave queried. “You will attempt resuscitation – you will try to revive her?”
“I’ll try, of course,” replied the medical man, dubiously. “Yes. I will work like a fiend, Darrin. Sometimes a spark of life lingers. But do not hope!”
“I shall be in the corridor outside,” Dave answered quietly. “Call me when – ”
Dry-eyed, but utterly haggard, Darrin stepped out into the passageway. He couldn’t quite believe what had happened – didn’t, in fact. It must be a dream, but soon there would be an awakening!
To his dazed mind the time did not seem long. Inside, he could hear low-voiced directions, and once he heard Hunter say:
“That much water off her lungs, anyway. My guess was right. She must have swallowed a good deal.”
Then he heard Hunter using the telephone. Not long afterward a hospital man came hurrying from the sick-bay with two bags, and vanished into the cabin with them, coming out at once.
Another interval, and then Darrin was called into his cabin. In the meantime, with the help of his steward, he had changed his own clothes.
“Any hope?” he asked, in a low voice.
“There’s a barest trace of pulse,” the ship’s surgeon replied, “but I do not believe it will last. I’m sorry. I’m doing everything that can possibly be done.”
“I’m sure you are, Hunter,” Dave replied.
Belle, whom the women had disrobed and rubbed, was now covered with blankets. One of the women, with a hand under the blankets, was applying a battery current.
Dave stepped forward, taking a long look at the white face and the closed eyes. Not even his hopes could conjure up the belief that a spark of life remained that could be fanned into renewed existence.
Still it was not real! Belle’s spirit had not flown and left him. Hunter, eyeing his commanding officer for an instant, read his mind; he understood and felt a great surge of sympathy for Darrin.
“Poor chap!” murmured the medico. “It will be all the harder when he really does come to himself!”
A glance downward at his uniform reminded Dave that he was still an officer, that hundreds of people had been close to death, that some undoubtedly had perished, and that he could not neglect his sworn duties.
Stepping to the telephone that connected with the bridge, he heard himself answered by the voice of his executive officer.
“Am I needed, Fernald?” he asked.
“No, sir. We’re still taking the rescued on board, but there is nothing you could do that is not being done by the rest of us. Any good news with you, sir?”
“Not yet, but there will be,” Dave answered. “Thank you.”
Then he glanced back toward the berth, to see that Dr. Hunter had prepared some liquid medicine that he was now trying to force between Belle’s lips. He stepped over beside the berth and watched.
“There! She’ll soon speak to us,” Dave declared, as he saw Belle’s eyelids flutter almost imperceptibly, and heard the faintest kind of a sigh.
Hunter, who knew that Life and Death were fighting, with Death going strong, did not reply, but stood with eyes fixed on the patient’s face. He did not look for her to become conscious enough to speak.
Two or three minutes dragged miserably by. The surgeon dreaded to pronounce the words which he felt must soon be said. One of the women was still applying the battery current, the other chafing Belle’s left wrist and arm. Hunter placed his stethoscope to her chest and listened, his face wholly grave.
There was another faint flutter of the lids, another faint sigh.
“You’ll soon speak to me, won’t you, Belle?” Dave urged, quietly, but in that silent cabin his every word was distinct.
“Shall I apply the battery to another part of the body, Doctor?” asked one of the women after a few minutes.
“One part will do as well as another,” Hunter answered, in a very low voice. The woman understood, but she said no word, gave no sign, but went on with her task.
“Come, Belle,” spoke Dave, now with an effort at cheeriness of tone, “we’re losing a lot of time, little girl.”
This time there was a somewhat more pronounced fluttering of the lids. Then came a sigh that sounded like a catching of the breath.
“Say!” murmured Hunter, in the awe of a new discovery. “That’s the thing to do, Darrin! Go on talking to her. I believe that she knows, that your voice reaches her subconsciously. Talk, man, talk! But easily.”
So Darrin, with a hand resting with a feather’s weight on Belle’s pallid forehead, went on speaking. It made little difference what he said, but every word was cheery, tender.
At last there came a longer flutter, a quicker, deeper sigh. Belle fought with her eyelids, then parted them, gazing vacantly until she saw Darrin’s bronzed face.
“All right now, Belle, aren’t you?” he called to her. “An all-right little girl again?”
“Dave – my – lad!”
The whisper came so low that only Darrin heard it. But Hunter lost nothing of the scene. His hand was on Belle’s pulse.
“Go on talking to her,” he whispered. “That’s the right medicine.”
So Dave continued, as cheerily as before. Belle Darrin could not follow all that he said. There was a trace of bewilderment in her eyes. The lids still fluttered, although she now breathed regularly even if low.
“That’s all, sir. Now step outside until you’re called,” Hunter ordered, with the air of a man who has learned something new and who means to claim all the credit.
Without a word of protest Dave turned, pushed aside the curtain and stepped outside into the passage.
“How is she?” whispered a familiar voice.
“Dan!”
“I came over as soon as I got word. The passengers have been rescued in great shape. But how is Belle?”
“Weak, but she’s going to mend all right – thank heaven!”
Their hands gripped.
“I was greatly worried,” Dan confessed in a low tone.
“Hang it all,” Darrin admitted, a new joy in his own low tones, “I believe I would have been worried to death if I had realized how all the chances were against me. But I felt as though such a thing as Belle’s death couldn’t be – and so it didn’t happen.”
“You’re not talking very straight, chum, but I understand you,” Dan nodded.
“And now, as to our duties,” Dave went on. “Fernald assured me he could attend to everything, and I knew that of course he could. So I let him. Were any of the ‘Griswold’s’ passengers lost? Yes, of course some must have been, for I saw the shell strike in that boat – the one Belle was in.”
“Three were killed by the exploding shell, and you have two on board who were wounded by fragments. Two more were drowned – probably because the shock stunned them and left them helpless in the water.”
“And I have been keeping Hunter with Belle all this time!” Dave uttered, rather shamefacedly. “I must call him. Perhaps he can revive the two who seemed to be drowned. Besides, some of the others need assistance.”
“Not a chance of it,” Dan continued. “I’ve had my own medico and two sick-bay men working over the cases. Both patients are dead. And there are others missing. Your executive officer is having lists made. Fortunately the ‘Griswold’s’ crew and passenger lists were saved. Your ship and mine have on board all who were picked up. Fernald should soon know just who were lost.”
So Hunter and the two women remained with Belle Darrin. Half an hour later Dave was called back into the cabin. Dan, who had remained with him all this time, still stayed outside.
“I’m going to be all right, Dave, as you can see for yourself,” Belle smiled, brightly, though her voice was but little above a whisper. “So you got me out of the water yourself? They have told me that much.”
“You’re all right again, little girl, but you must gain a lot of strength,” Dave answered, joyously. “I see old Hunter looking at me frowningly this minute – ”
“I wasn’t,” interrupted the ship’s surgeon, “but you have the right idea, anyway. Mrs. Darrin is going to need sleep now, and then something light and nourishing to eat. So you’d better return to your duties, sir, and look me up later in the evening.”
“Good little girl!” Dave whispered, bending over and kissing Belle on the forehead. “I knew you’d finish your cruise all right. Now, I’m going to obey the surgeon’s orders. I’ll come back at the very earliest moment that I’m allowed to do so.”
Outside he thrust an arm gaily under Dalzell’s, and in this fashion the two chums walked briskly to the deck and bridge. They were soon busy with the figures of the day’s work. Between them, the “Grigsby” and the “Reed” had picked up nearly two hundred and fifty persons. Both craft were crowded. Five bodies had been recovered from the water, and about fifteen more people were listed as missing, though every effort had been made to discover more of those who were missing.
“I hate to think what would happen,” muttered Dalzell, “if an enemy submarine were to get between our two craft and let us have it right now – a strike against each of our ships!”
Right at that instant there came to their ears the jarring hail:
“’Ware torpedo! Headed starboard – amidships!”
CHAPTER XXIV – CONCLUSION
Dave did not glance for the tell-tale torpedo trail. His hand signalled the engine-room for fullest speed. His voice gave the order for the sweeping turn that the “Grigsby” quickly made.
A few breathless seconds. The destroyer turned, then swung her stern again.
The “Grigsby” leaped forward, her bow aimed at the slender shaft of a periscope that lay in outline against the water.
Yonder, half a mile away, the “Reed” had executed a similar movement. The two destroyers were racing toward each other, each bent on ramming the new monster that had appeared between them. But Dave did not forget his forward guns.
Springing from the bridge he himself took station behind one of the guns just as the breech was closed on a load.
“I haven’t yet sighted a gun on this ship,” he announced, coolly. “I want to see what I can do.”
Seldom had a piece been aimed more quickly on any naval craft. Darrin fell back as the piece was fired. He had aimed to strike under water at the base of that periscope. This had seemed the best chance, though he knew the power of water in deflecting a shell aimed through it.
“A hit!” cried an ensign, as he beheld the periscope itself waver, then stand nearly straight before it was hauled swiftly in.
“A hit – a good one!” came the signal from the “Reed.”
“I believe we did smash the hound!” chuckled Darrin, leaning forward and taking the glass that was placed at his hand.
“Yes, sir. I can make out the oil patch ahead.”
With the glass to his eyes Darrin confirmed this report.
“That was unusual luck,” he said, coolly.
“Unusual shooting, I’d say, sir,” voiced the ensign.
“It’s over, anyway, with that Hun pirate,” declared Darrin. He ordered the course changed as soon as Dan left for his own ship. Then he went to the radio room to dictate a message to American naval headquarters at the home port. That message told of the rescue of all but a score of the crew and passengers from the sunken “Griswold,” and also of the now crowded condition of both destroyers.
Within fifteen minutes the orders from shore arrived, in this form:
“Come in with rescued passengers and crew. Commanding officers of ‘Grigsby’ and ‘Reed’ directed report for new orders.”
If Dave was anxious to have Belle safe on shore, the jackies on the two craft were hardly less eager to put all the civilians ashore as soon as possible, that the ships’ crews might once more have elbow room.
It was not until evening that port was made. On the trip Dave Darrin barely left the bridge, but remained on duty hour after hour, refusing to close his eyes. He would take no chances whatever with this most precious cargo of men and women.
By the time that the destroyer had reached moorings, Belle was able to go up on deck, on Dave’s arm. He took her ashore at once, placed her in a hotel, and arranged for medical attendance to be summoned if needed. And Runkle, with shore leave for the night, insisted on remaining in the hotel, where he could be called at any instant when Mrs. Darrin might need anything that he could do for her.
Though the flag lieutenant was present at the interview which followed at naval headquarters, it was the admiral himself who received Dave and Dan.
“You report more good luck – fine management, too!” cried the admiral, his face beaming. “You two officers do not seem to be able to put to sea without running into the sort of doings that make fine reading in the newspapers at home. You have made wonderful drives against the submarines, but your nerves must be well gone to pieces by this time.”
“No, sir,” Darrin replied. “I’m ready for new sailing orders to-night.”
“You won’t get them,” the admiral retorted, bluntly. “Mr. Darrin, your wife, and ill at that, is ashore, I am informed. She was one of your rescued ones to-day.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is she wholly recovered?”
“She will be, by morning, sir.”
“And you are professing willingness to go on board and start with new sea orders to-night!”
“In war time, sir, I must think only of my work,” Dave answered.
For a few moments the admiral sat there, regarding both young officers keenly.
“You’re splendid fellows, both of you,” the older man said, at last. “So good, in fact, that you’re soon to be moved from these waters.”
Darrin bowed, and so did Dalzell, but neither asked questions.
“A ranking British naval officer told me, this afternoon,” continued the admiral, “that he felt the British admiralty could well afford to trade its best battleship for the services of two such officers as you young gentlemen.”
“Are we to be turned over to join the British, sir?” asked Dave, a look of alarm in his bronzed face. “To serve in the British Navy?”
“Would you accept such an assignment?” queried the admiral.
Dave glanced swiftly at his chum before he replied for both:
“Sir, we’d go anywhere, perform any duty, under any flag, and under any conditions, at the request of our own Government,” Darrin answered. “We do not belong to ourselves, but to the United States, and, through our Government, to any nation on earth to which our Government should wish to transfer us. At the same time, our choice would naturally be for service in our own American Navy.”
“And that is just where it is going to be – with your own crowd,” smiled the admiral. “You will also command the same craft on which you came in this evening. But you will be changed to other waters, and you will have a somewhat different line of duty – a more dangerous line, in many ways, I may add. But the British Admiralty, in making a request of me, specified distinctly that it trusted I would be able to detail you two young officers to the work. That new work, as I just said, will also be in other waters.”
The admiral paused for a moment, but presently went on to say:
“The new duty to which you are to be detailed was known to me some time ago. That was why you were ordered to your present new commands. We wanted you to try out both destroyers, that you might know all their capabilities. Even had you struck no fresh adventures you would have been recalled by to-morrow. But you know your craft now, and each of you has tested out and learned his junior officers, and now you are surely in readiness for your new field of work.”
“However, there are some slight but necessary changes to be made in the ‘Grigsby’ and the ‘Reed’ before they will be ready for their new work. To-morrow a naval constructor will go aboard each of your ships and take charge of the alterations to be made and the new equipment to be installed. For that reason you will both be able to spend the greater part of your time on shore during the coming week.”
Within the next few minutes the admiral detailed to the delighted young officers the nature of the new work that was to be required of them. It was as dangerous as he had stated. It would also call for their tireless attention night and day. The admiral, however, could not daunt them. Work and danger are the corner-stones of successful war, and the eyes of the young naval officers shone as they saw the fullness of their new opportunity to serve.
“I shall be glad to receive my final orders, sir, at any hour, night or day,” Dave Darrin announced, as he rose.
“And I shall be, also, sir,” Dalzell promptly added.
“A week’s rest, anyway, will make you both keener and better fitted for the big job you’ve ahead of you. Gentlemen, my heartiest congratulations for your work during the last few weeks. You will do even better on your next cruise. Good-night, gentlemen.”
Back to the hotel they went. Belle was now able to chat with them, though she preferred to sit back in a big chair and to listen to their own modest accounts of what they had seen and done during the latest thrilling weeks in their lives.
The next day Belle was able to go out with her husband. After that she mended rapidly.
All too soon the period of rest and delightful recreation ended. Belle went on to her Red Cross work in France, and the orders came for which both these young naval officers were so eagerly waiting.
But what these orders were, and into what new fields of fighting it led the two naval chums, must be reserved for the next volume of this series, which will be published under the title: “Dave Darrin After the Mine Layers; or Hitting the Enemy a Hard Naval Blow.”
In this splendid new volume the newest developments of sea fighting in the late war will be set forth with a fidelity and compelling interest that will hold the attention of every reader.