Bert Wilson at Panama

As he struck it, the water spurted through the holes in the boat, and a shrill cackling laugh came from the row of slant-eyed faces peering down over the rail. The little craft was by now a quarter full of water, and as the Japanese yacht took on speed and swung away on its course Bert started bailing desperately. He realized that there was hardly one chance in a thousand of his being picked up before, in spite of all he could do, the little boat would fill with water and sink.

However, he resolved to keep afloat as long as he could on the bare chance of some vessel passing in his neighborhood. Accordingly he set to work with the wooden scoop, sending sheet after sheet over the side. He worked desperately, and at first almost thought that he was gaining on the incoming water. His exertions were excessive, and before long he was forced to bail more slowly. He kept watching a deep scratch in the side of the boat to see if the water was gaining. With a sinking heart he realized that it was. In spite of all he could do, it crept up and up until finally it was over the scratch and the boat was nearly half full. Luckily for him, the sea was unusually calm, or he must soon have been swamped.

At the thought of all that it would mean to his country if he drowned with his secret, Bert fell to with the scoop with furious energy, but was not able to hold his terrible pace long, and finally flung down the bailer in despair.

"Perhaps I can plug up the holes," he thought, and ripped off his coat. He tore great pieces from it and tried to stuff up the holes, but to no effect. Such crude plugs as he could make were inadequate to stay the inrush of water, and he would hardly have time to insert one in one opening before that in another gave way.

So he was forced to give up this plan, and had recourse once more to the bailer. His only hope now was to keep afloat until he might be seen and picked up by a passing boat. He strained his eyes over the surrounding sea, but there was no sign of help in sight.

Slowly but surely the water crept up the sides of the boat until it was only a few inches from the gunwales. As the boat sank deeper, the water rushed in with ever-increasing force, and finally the conviction was forced in upon Bert that he had really come to the end of his resources. Of course, even after the boat sank, he could swim a little while, but after his fierce fight on the deck of the Japanese yacht and his terrific exertions afterward, he knew he would have little strength left.

Nevertheless he stripped off his outer clothing and resolved to do the best he could. Suddenly he was startled by a splashing, gurgling noise behind him, and, looking around, was surprised and puzzled to see what looked like the back of a huge whale floating within fifty feet of the stern of his little craft. In a second he understood, and a great wave of joy surged over him.

"It's a submarine," he thought, "and an American one at that," as he recognized the design.

Even as he looked, a hatch was thrown open in the deck of the submarine, and the head and shoulders of a man emerged from the aperture. Almost at the same instant Bert's rowboat gave a gentle lurch and disappeared beneath the surface. As he felt it sinking, Bert gave a great shout, and the man on the submarine whirled around in his direction, surprise written large on his countenance.

"By thunder!" he exclaimed, "what in the name of – " But here he dived below and in a few seconds reappeared with a life preserver attached to a long cord. This he cast toward Bert, who in the meantime had been swimming steadily toward the submarine. Bert grasped the preserver and was rapidly drawn on board by the first man who had appeared, and by two others who by now had joined him. Bert was soon safe on the sloping deck, and was besieged by a thousand questions.

The man who had first espied Bert was evidently an officer, and he soon quitted the others and took the cross-examination in his own hands. It was some time before Bert was able to answer, and probably at no time in his strenuous career had he come nearer complete exhaustion.

Finally, however, his strength began to return, and he staggered to his feet.

"For Heaven's sake!" he exclaimed, "take me to the captain and let me give him a message I have for him. Never mind anything else just now – I can tell you all about that after we get started."

The officer saw that he was in deadly earnest, and although he was rather inclined to think this young fellow's experiences had unbalanced his mind, he led him below without further loss of time.

They descended a steep ladder, and presently entered the room in which were kept the machinery controls, gauges, and other apparatus relating to the operation of the submarine. There was a solidly built table in the center of this room, and at this, carefully examining a chart spread out in front of him, sat a sturdy, thick-set man of perhaps fifty years of age. As the officer entered, followed by Bert, the captain rose and waited for the officer's report.

He gave Bert only one glance, but it was such a keen, searching one, that our hero felt there was little in his appearance that the other had overlooked. Then the captain turned his eyes back to the officer, and returned the latter's salute.

"Well, Mr. Warren, what have you to report?" he asked.

"Why, sir," replied the officer, "I don't exactly know myself. When we ascended to the surface and I went up on deck, the first thing I saw was a foundering rowboat with this young man in it. A few seconds later it sank, and he swam toward the ship. I threw him a life preserver, and we hauled him aboard. He wouldn't answer any questions, though, and insisted on speaking with you personally, so I thought it best to bring him along."

"Very good," responded the captain, and turned slightly toward Bert.

"Now, young man," he said, "you wished to speak to me, and here I am.

What is it you wanted to tell me?"

Thereupon Bert poured out the whole story of the Japanese plot as fast as he could speak, and the captain and his officer listened attentively, once in a while asking a terse question. The commander's eyes were riveted on Bert during his whole speech, and when he had finished he sat a few moments immersed in deep thought.

Then he sprang to his feet and gave crisp orders to get the submarine under way. "See that the lad is clothed and well taken care of, Mr. Warren," he ordered, as his commands were being carried out. "He's evidently had some rather strenuous experiences, during the last few hours, and a little food and rest will do him a lot of good. We can wake him up when we need him."

Lieut. Warren saluted, and motioned to Bert to follow him. He led him through a long passage to the officers' dining room, and when a place was set for him at the table Bert fell to with a good appetite. The officers were naturally very much interested in his adventures, and he told them as much of his recent experiences as he thought fit, of course not mentioning details of the plot. Before very long they asked him his name, and when they learned that he was actually the man who had won the Marathon race at the last Olympic games, they would gladly have made him a present of the ship had they been able.

It was with the greatest difficulty that he finally broke away and made an attempt to get a little sleep. He was so excited that he found this impossible, however, and soon returned to the company of the officers. The electric motors driving the ship were humming at top speed, and the registering apparatus indicated a rate of fifteen knots an hour. This was good speed for a submarine, but Bert figured that, as the yacht on which he had been carried out was unusually swift, it must have traveled at least one hundred and fifty miles from the Colon harbor. At the rate of fifteen knots an hour, then, it would take them a little over ten hours to get back into the harbor, and he did not know how much longer to get up the canal to the mined gate of the lock. There was always the chance of accidents or delay, and he must reach the city before the morrow dawned.

CHAPTER XV

CUTTING THE WIRES

It seemed as though the time would never pass, and he tried to divert his mind by looking out of the glass windows or portholes, set in near the bow of the submarine. The boat was equipped with a powerful searchlight, which threw its brilliant rays far ahead, and lit up the ocean for a considerable distance all around. Even in his agitated state of mind, he found time to wonder at the dense and active life of the sea. Fishes, large and small and of every conceivable shape and coloring, swam close up to the porthole and seemed to be trying to look in. Some, attracted by the beams of light, followed the course of the submarine, never seeming to tire or fall back.

Every once in a while, some larger fish, engaged on a foraging expedition, would cross the path of light, and there would be a general scattering of the smaller fry, as they darted hither and thither in a frenzied search for safety. Some, indeed, the majority, were beautifully striped and spotted, and most of them Bert had never seen before. As he watched this teeming life, he grew more and more interested, and almost forgot his present surroundings. He was recalled to them by a light tap on the shoulder, and, turning around, he saw the officer, Lieutenant Warren, who had thrown him the life preserver.

"Quite an interesting study, isn't it, Mr. Wilson?" he asked, with a pleasant smile.

"I should say it was," exclaimed Bert, enthusiastically. "I never dreamed of being able to see a sight like this. It's almost worth having lived a lifetime just to have had this experience."

The other smiled at his earnestness.

"Yes," he said, "we all felt the same way you do, when we took our first few trips. There used to be hot arguments as to whose turn it was at the port hole, and we had to arrange regular times between us. The novelty soon wore off, though, and now, as you see, there isn't much competition."

"Well, it's new to me, yet, and I certainly find it very interesting," replied Bert. "These fishes seem to be every color of the rainbow, and the way they keep darting in and out reminds me of a kaleidoscope on a large scale.

"It does, rather," the lieutenant assented, "and, believe me, we see lots of things besides fishes, too. Why, I've come across all kinds of wrecked ships, from rowboats to big four-mast-ers. In tropic waters, we've seen many a ship that I'm sure was an old Spanish galleon, and I'll wager there's many a fortune in gold and silver pieces that we've had to pass over in the performance of duty. There are uncounted riches lying at the bottom of this old ocean, my boy."

"I don't doubt it in the least," answered Bert, and then Mr. Warren went on to tell him various yarns of strange adventures he had undergone and marvelous things that he had seen. Bert listened, fascinated, for the officer was a man who had not only been all over the world, but knew how to tell a story. The time passed more quickly than he had dared to hope, and just before dawn, he was told that they were almost at the entrance of the Canal.

The little submarine flew into the great new waterway, and hesitated no more than the brave hearts guiding its course. Its powerful searchlight illuminated the Canal from side to side, and they were able to get an idea of the immensity of the completed enterprise. Mile after mile, the smooth concrete wall slipped away back of them, thick, ponderous, designed to last as long as civilization lasted, and perhaps longer. As Bert gazed, his heart thrilled with a great pride at what his country had accomplished, and this feeling was succeeded by a fierce hatred of those who were plotting to set the great work at naught.

But now, the submarine had almost reached the mined gate of the Lock, and its speed was gradually reduced three-fourths. It nosed cautiously along, until the searchlight revealed a vast structure directly ahead. Instantly the motors were reversed, and by the time the boat's speed had been checked, it was not more than thirty feet from the gate.

In the meantime one of the crew had been encased in a diver's suit and now made ready to leave. He was conducted into an air-tight room near the bottom of the submarine, and, after the door had been securely fastened, water was admitted. When the room was full, the diver opened a door in the hull and stepped out of the boat, which had previously been lowered until it rested on the Canal bottom.

From the porthole in the submarine's bow he could be seen slowly making his way, following the luminous path made by the searchlight. In a short time he reached the gate of the lock, and began to follow its course toward the bank. He was soon out of the range of vision of those at the porthole, but, in a few minutes, returned; and it could be seen, by the way in which he still scanned the walls, that he had not yet found the wires leading to the explosives.

He had traversed perhaps half the distance from the center to the other bank, when he was seen to stop suddenly and carefully examine something near the lock.

"I'll bet he's found the wires," exclaimed Bert, excitedly.

"Very likely he has," replied Mr. Warren. "I was beginning to be afraid that the plotters had buried the wires so cunningly that it would be almost impossible to get at them."

But here, all doubts on the subject were set at rest, as they saw the sailor draw a pair of wire cutters from his belt and ply them on something near the wall. Immediately afterward he straightened up and waved his hand, as a signal that everything was all right.

"By Jove," cried the lieutenant, drawing a long breath, "I guess now we've spoiled those fellows' plans for good. But, believe me, that was rather ticklish work. I expected almost every minute to be wafted heavenward by a charge of dynamite. None of us would have had the slightest chance in the world, if that explosion had taken place."

"I rather think you're right," agreed Bert. "But why doesn't the man come back? He seems to be continuing his search along the Lock gate."

"Oh, that's because the captain gave him orders before he went out to examine the wall from end to end for traces of a second set of wires. But I guess that the Japs had such confidence in their handiwork that they had no doubt of the success of their one set. I must confess that I haven't much doubt regarding them, either, if we hadn't happened along to spoil the whole show for them."

"Yes, the whole country owes Mr. Wilson a debt of gratitude it can never repay," broke in Captain Clendenin, who had come up and overheard the lieutenant's last remark. "It would have been a heavy blow, and one that would have required the expenditure of thousands of lives to recover from. The value of your services cannot be rated too highly, sir."

"I'm grateful for your high opinion of me, I'm sure," replied Bert, much confused by such high praise, "but it was as much by luck as anything else that I first got wind of the plan, and after that, of course, there was only one thing for me to do."

"That's all very well," responded the captain, "but nevertheless not many men I know would have done it, and I abide by my statement. It is no light thing for a young man to attempt, singlehanded, to thwart the plans of a great and powerful nation."

The diver had by this time completed a very thorough inspection of every inch of the gate, and in a short time returned to the submarine. He entered the water-filled room from which he had stepped forth, and, after he had closed the door in the vessel's hull, pulled a signal rope, and in a very few minutes the powerful pumps had emptied the room of water. Then the man was admitted to the body of the boat and relieved of his cumbersome suit.

This done, he immediately reported to the captain, and gave him a detailed account of what he had found.

"There were two sets of wires, sir," he said, "so that if one had not worked, the other would. I looked very carefully along the walls for other wires, but didn't find any."

The captain dismissed him, with a word of approbation, and then gave orders for the submarine to get under way. This was done, but Captain Clendenin had no intention of rising directly to the surface. The water chambers were pumped out very slowly, and, as the boat gradually rose, it was steered slowly back and forth across the face of the gates, and men were stationed at the portholes to look for any indication of other wires. They found none, but were able to see where the dynamite charges had been placed. Evidently the walls had been charged with enough of high explosives not only to derange the machinery but possibly to blow it into fragments.

The men in the submarine shuddered as they thought of the awful catastrophe that would have occurred, and thanked the Providence that had enabled them to avert it. Bert became a veritable hero to all on board. Of course, by this time, the crew had gained a pretty good idea of how matters stood, and had as strong an admiration for him as had the officers. They were all picked men, chosen for their intelligence and bravery, and were therefore well fitted to appreciate these qualities when found in others. And Bert's exploit was after their own heart.

He had free run of the ship, and had learned the uses of most of the ingenious devices that were scattered everywhere about the boat. Accordingly, as he now stepped into the control room, he saw at a glance that they were nearing the surface of the water, being at this moment only twenty feet beneath it.

The gauge indicated less and less depth, and suddenly a burst of sunshine entering the porthole told Bert that they were at the surface. The hatchway was thrown open and he ascended to the deck. The pure, sweet air was very grateful after the somewhat confined atmosphere of the submarine, and Bert drew in great breaths of it. Pretty soon Lieutenant Warren joined him on the little platform and shared with him the beauty of the morning.

"It certainly gets pretty close in here at times," he remarked. "Once we got stuck on the bottom and had all sorts of a time getting off. Our reserve supply of air was used up and we all thought we'd suffocate, sure. But we managed to get loose from the wreck we were mixed up with, just in time, and I don't believe that I ever enjoyed the sight of the blue sky as I did then. It was a narrow squeak, and no mistake."

"I should say it was," answered Bert, and then, after a pause, he asked: "But where are we bound for, now, Lieutenant? What's the next move in the game?"

"Why, we'll get news of this plot to the Canal authorities and the War Department, as soon as possible, and then it will be up to them to act as they see fit. You've done your part and we've done ours, and they in their wisdom can decide the future policy of the nation."

"But what do you think that will be?" queried Bert. "They'll declare war, now, won't they?"

"That's a hard question to answer," mused the other, "but it's my private opinion that the whole matter will be hushed up. You may be sure that those engaged in this affair have covered their tracks very skillfully, and it would be practically impossible to prove that they were accredited agents of the Japanese Government. And in a case of that kind, the world requires more than mere suspicion, you know."

"Yes, I guess you're right," said Bert, thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, I'm the only one who overheard the plotters, and my evidence probably wouldn't be sufficient to prove a connection between them and the Japanese Government. I hadn't thought of that before."

"Well, I rather think that is the way it will work out," said the lieutenant. "However, you never can tell which way the cat will jump at Washington, and this may be the first move in a great war. We won't have many days to wait to find out, anyway."

The submarine made all haste to the nearest cable station at Colon, and from there ciphers in the navy code were sent to the authorities, narrating all the events connected with the plot.

Bert was put ashore, as soon as the submarine reached harbor, and parted from her officers with warm expressions of mutual esteem. The morning was well advanced, as he hurried toward his hotel. There was a hum of preparation apparent, the streets were crowded with throngs hastening to secure a point of vantage for the coming spectacle, and flags and bunting floated everywhere. And just then, as he turned a corner, Dick and Tom, with a wild yell pounced upon him. The anxiety and fear written on their haggard faces were replaced by a look of inexpressible delight. They grabbed his hands and pounded him on the back and otherwise acted as though suddenly deranged.

"You old rascal," shouted Tom. "Where on earth have you been?"

"Glory, hallelujah," cried Dick. "We've searched high and low and have nearly gone crazy."

Their queries rained on him without stint, but not till they had reached the hotel and he had bathed and dressed did he pour out the details of the astounding plot. The boys were thunderstruck at the peril, missed only by a hair's breadth, and their pride in Bert's achievement and joy at his return were beyond all words.

They were sitting on the upper veranda, as they talked, and the huge American flag that flew over the hotel, floated past them, just brushing them, as though in a caress.

"Old Glory," murmured Bert.

"The flag still waves," added Tom.

"Yes," exulted Dick, "and not at half-mast, either."

CHAPTER XVI

THE FOILING OF THE PLOT

It was noon, and Namoto sat in his library, waiting.

He was alone. All preparations had been made for instant flight. His household treasures, his heirlooms, his followers, with Togi in charge, had been sent to the yacht, that, with steam up, was lying at its moorings. The captain had reported the disposition of the prisoner, and had received his master's commendation. And now, after measureless toil and risk and scheming, Namoto prepared to taste the sweets of victory.

How near that victory was! The ceremonies were to begin at twelve. He saw in imagination the crowded wharves and banks, the shouting throngs, the stately ships, as, decked with flags, they moved slowly up the bay to the entrance of the Canal. As the first one entered the locks there was to be a salvo of artillery from all the vessels of the fleet. And then, his turn would come. A slight pressure on that button, and there would be a crash, a roar that would echo around the world. Japan would hear and rejoice; America would hear and tremble. To the one, it would be the signal of glorious triumph; to the other, the crack of doom.

There it was, now! Through the window came the boom of guns. He waited till the echoes died away.

Then, smiling, he forced the button down, and listened for the thunder of the explosion.

Silence!

Wonderingly, he pressed again.

And again, the silence of the grave!

Wildly, desperately, frantically, he pushed down with all his strength.

Then, pale as ashes, he rose to his feet.

He had failed. How or why, he did not know. But, he had failed. He had gambled for great stakes and lost.

He could still escape. His yacht was waiting. He walked with a firm step over to the wall, and took down a dagger that had belonged to his ancestors.

And when Togi and the captain, alarmed at his non-appearance, burst into the room an hour later, they found him there. His home in Japan, his beloved Nippon, would never see him again. His soul had gone in search of that other home, promised by his creed to those who die for their country – the home of the immortal gods.

*******

And all through that day and many days succeeding, the great Atlantic fleet climbed over the ridges of the continent and dropped into the Pacific. And out on that vast expanse, other ships, under another flag, melted away on the horizon, like the passing of an evil dream. The threat of invasion was over. In Tokio, they writhed in secret over the miscarriage of their plans, while in the inner circles of Washington there was unfeigned relief and rejoicing. And all America, unknowing of the peril so narrowly escaped, gloried over the successful opening to the world of the great Panama Canal.

For, as had been predicted, the matter was hushed up and buried in the official archives – that graveyard of so many tragedies, actual and impending. Those who knew were pledged to secrecy. Some day, perhaps, when the time was ripe, America would demand with interest the debt due from Japan. But while there could be no public recognition of Bert's services, he cherished as one of his choicest treasures a personal letter from the President thanking him for his splendid achievement in behalf of the nation.