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The Boy Allies in the Baltic by Robert L. Drake
"Submerge to five fathoms, Mr. Templeton!"
The speaker was Lord Hastings, commander of the British submarine D-17.
Jack Templeton, a British youth and first officer of the under-sea craft, repeated the command for which he had been waiting now for some moments.
"Mr. Chadwick!"
Lord Hastings' voice again.
"Sir!"
A third figure, standing upon the bridge-now enclosed as the submarine sank from the surface-came to attention before his commander. Frank Chadwick, an American youth and second officer of the vessel, awaited instructions.
"Everything shipshape?" questioned his commander sharply.
"Yes, sir. Engine-room trouble all repaired, sir."
"Lookout posted forward?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Very well. Ten fathoms, Mr. Templeton!"
Lord Hastings turned from the periscope, through which he had been peering, and for a moment gazed thoughtfully at his two young officers before speaking. At last he said:
"Unless something goes wrong we will be in Heligoland within two hours!"
A startling statement, this, to one who did not know the nature of the man who made it; for it was a fact known to all the world that Heligoland, the great German fortress that guarded the approach to the few miles of German seacoast, was one of the strongest in the world-perhaps as well fortified as Gibraltar itself, and considered by naval experts equally as impregnable.
Apparently the D-17 was bent upon a perilous venture.
Such, indeed, was the case. The D-17, sister ship to the D-16, in which Lord Hastings and his two young officers had seen many exciting adventures, as related in "The Boy Allies with the Terror of the Seas," had left the coast of England the day before, heading straight for the strongly fortified German base; and now she was almost there.
Just what object Lord Hastings had in view neither Jack nor Frank knew, for Lord Hastings had not yet taken them fully into his confidence concerning this expedition. Since leaving England he had been busy in his cabin almost continuously poring over papers and maps, but both lads had a pretty shrewd idea that the venture was an important one.
Now Frank asked:
"And what are we going to do in there, sir?"
Lord Hastings smiled.
"What would be your idea about that?"
"Well," said Frank, "there are several things we might do. First, we might sink a couple of German war vessels. We might try and learn the lay of the land-perhaps I should say the water-or we might try and get ashore and so learn other matters of importance. Have I hit it, sir?"
"You have," returned his commander dryly; "you've hit it in more ways than one. In fact, I may say you have guessed shrewdly all through."
"Then I can do a little guessing, too," declared Jack.
"Well?" said Lord Hastings inquiringly.
"Well," said Jack, "we first shall probably make an attempt to get ashore, for there we can learn more than we could reconnoitering beneath the water. That's where we shall try to find our information. And we shall sink a couple of the enemy on our way out. Am I right, sir?"
"You are," replied Lord Hastings briefly, and turning on his heel he left the bridge and disappeared in his cabin, only to reappear a few moments later, charts and papers in his hands, announcing:
"Mr. Chadwick, you will take the wheel yourself. I'll stand beside you and give my orders. These waters are thickly strewn with mines and we can afford to take no chances."
Frank obeyed this command without question and Lord Hastings took his place beside him, first remarking to Jack:
"You will relieve the lookout forward, Mr. Templeton, and keep your eyes open. I need not mention the need of prompt action should you perceive danger ahead. Slow down to five knots!"
"Very well, sir."
Jack saluted, and after giving the command that reduced the speed of the vessel, took himself forward.
There, at the extreme bow, he relieved a sailor and took the watch himself.
Now the D-17, like her sister ship the D-16, which had been sunk off the Dardanelles-an accident in which all on board escaped as by a miracle-was as unlike other under-water craft as day is from night.
In the first place, she was able to remain under water indefinitely. It was not necessary for her to return to the surface every so often to replenish her air tanks, for she carried no tanks. The D-17 generated her air supply from the water, by means of a secret process known only to high officials of the British admiralty. Also, the D-17 was the last word in submarine craft in other respects. She had a speed of more than thirty knots when submerged, could move along even faster upon the surface of the water, and her bow, a solid piece of substantial glass, in which reposed a huge searchlight, made it possible for her to pick her course under the water-something that no other submarine craft was able to do. For this latter reason she could venture places where no other vessel would dare.
The huge light flashing in front now, Jack took his stand and stood with eyes straining into the distance ahead.
And while the D-17 is thus moving toward the strongest fortification of the enemy, a few words concerning the two subordinate officers aboard are necessary.
Frank Chadwick, an American youth of some seventeen years of age, found himself in his present position as a result of a series of strange happenings. He had lost his father in Italy immediately after the outbreak of the great war, and while hunting him in Naples, had been shanghaied aboard an Italian schooner. Here, following a mutiny of the crew and the death of the captain, he found himself a prisoner, remaining so until released by Jack Templeton.
The latter's appearance came about in this manner: Jack, the son of an Englishman, nevertheless had spent most of his life in a little African coast town. His father died there and Jack found himself sole owner of a little store, which had almost a native trade alone, though an occasional ship put in for supplies.
One day a schooner hove in sight. A boat put over the side and its occupants obtained provisions at Jack's store. In the lad's absence, they departed without making payment. Jack hurried after them to collect and climbed aboard the schooner just as she raised anchor. A fight followed his demand for payment. By some resourcefulness and some good hard fighting, the lad succeeded in gaining the upper hand. Then he released Frank, whom he found a prisoner with another, a British secret service agent.
A series of subsequent events threw the lads into the company of Lord Hastings, who, taking a liking to them, answered their pleas to be made sailors by securing them commissions and taking them aboard his own ship at the opening of the great world war.
Then had followed months of excitement and adventure. They had taken part in British successes and reverses on all the seven seas. They had been "in at the death" in the first British naval victory off Heligoland; they had followed the German cruiser Emden, "the Terror of the Sea"; they had been in action with the British fleet that destroyed the German squadron off the Falkland Islands in the western hemisphere; they had seen action in other parts of the globe-at the Dardanelles, with the Japanese at Tsingchau, with the French in the Adriatic and with the Russians in the Baltic.
In a word, they were veterans.
Many were the narrow escapes they had had, but they had always survived. Their latest venture had almost cost Frank his life, for, after the submarine upon which they sailed had been destroyed, Frank engaged in a death struggle with a British traitor in the waters of the North Sea and had won by a scant fraction. He was unconscious when rescued by his chum and he had remained inactive, as had the others, in England for several weeks.
But now, the D-17 having been put in service, Lord Hastings had been named to command her and all were eager to get busy again.
Frank, though sturdy and strong, was by no means a match for his chum, a powerful and husky young Englishman. Also he was naturally more hot-headed than his friend, and given to taking foolhardy chances-at times. Jack's coolness had saved both more than once.
Jack was what Frank called a real fighter and had proved his mettle more than once since the two had been together. Strong as an ox, he was a bad customer to tackle in a rough and tumble and he was exceedingly proficient in the use of his fists. Also he was a fair swordsman and a fair shot.
It was in the latter accomplishment that Frank excelled. He was a dead shot with either rifle or revolver, as he had proved in several tight situations where straight shooting had been necessary. He had never failed in this respect.
Fortunately, both lads spoke German and French as well as English, and under Lord Hastings' tutoring, they had also picked up a smattering of Italian, Russian and Hungarian-not much, perhaps, but enough to carry on a conversation, although with some difficulty.
At the time the D-17 made her way toward Heligoland, the great war was almost at a standstill. It seemed that the warring nations had reached a deadlock that could not be broken.
On sea, of course, the Allies held the whip hand, except for the submarine warfare instigated by the Central Powers. This, however, due in a measure to the activities of British under-sea craft upon which Jack and Frank had served, had been somewhat lessened lately and German U-boats, as they had come to be known, had not been so active recently.
On land, however, it seemed that neither side had gained much in the last few months. What advantage there was seemed to have rested with the Germans, for the Kaiser's mighty drive through the Balkans had completely crushed heroic little Serbia and had opened a path to Constantinople for the German hordes. Also it had brought Bulgaria into the war on the side of the Central Powers, giving them the armed weight necessary to keep Greece and Roumania from throwing their support to the Allies, much as they would have liked to do so.
This was the situation, then, when the D-17 steamed slowly toward the German naval fortress of Heligoland.
As Lord Hastings, standing by Frank at the wheel, gave the course, avoiding mines as well as he could by the chart that had somehow come into his possession, Jack retained his place forward in the glass-like cage, his eyes steadily ahead.
For an hour, perhaps, he sat there, seeing nothing that indicated danger.
Then, suddenly, his right hand shot out, his finger touched a little push-button; the throb of the engines ceased as if by magic and the D-17 seemed to halt in her track.
Jack approached Lord Hastings.
"Mine, sir," he said, quietly.
The Boy Allies in the Baltic
Robert L. Drake
Literature
Chapter 1 ON A RAID.
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Chapter 2 WITHIN THE FORTRESS.
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Chapter 3 A WARNING.
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Chapter 4 MARIE DULCé.
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Chapter 5 THAT NIGHT.
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Chapter 6 FLIGHT.
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Chapter 7 THE ATTACK.
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Chapter 8 IN THE BALTIC.
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Chapter 9 ASHORE.
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Chapter 10 COUNT BLOWINSKI.
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Chapter 11 THE COUNT EXPLAINS HIS PLANS.
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Chapter 12 THE BOYS MAKE PROGRESS.
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Chapter 13 THE FIGHT IN THE PASSAGE.
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Chapter 14 FRANK TAKES A JOURNEY.
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Chapter 15 THE CZAR IS WARNED.
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Chapter 16 THE TRAP IS SPRUNG.
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Chapter 17 INTO SIBERIA.
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Chapter 18 PRISON FRIENDS.
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Chapter 19 FRANK STARTS TO THE RESCUE.
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Chapter 20 CRUELTY BECOMES UNBEARABLE.
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Chapter 21 ACROSS THE SNOW.
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Chapter 22 THE BATTLE WITH THE WOLVES.
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Chapter 23 CAPTURED BY NEW ENEMIES.
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Chapter 24 A SEVERE REPRIMAND.
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Chapter 25 THE FIGHT.
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Chapter 26 JACK IN THE TOILS.
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Chapter 27 A FIGHT WITH A MADMAN.
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Chapter 28 COUNT BLOWINSKI IS CAPTURED.
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Chapter 29 DEATH OF THE TRAITOR-OLD ENGLAND AGAIN.
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