Originally published: July 3, 1909
Genres: Adventure, Children's
Goodreads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/199576049-motor-matt-s-defiance-or-around-the-horn
Gutenberg link: https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49937
Chapters: 16
Warning: This may include outdated and derogatory language and attitudes.
CHAPTER I
TELLTALE SPARKS
"We have finished repainting the ship, Captain Ichi."
"Very good, lieutenant."
"What flag shall we fly?"
"Where are we?"
"Off Cape Virgins."
"Then break out the Chilian ensign, lieutenant. My compliments to the officer of the deck, and tell him to double the lookout and have a sharp watch kept. If we raise a Chilian ship, haul down the flag, and run up the British flag; if a British ship is sighted, then haul German bunting to the gaff. In any other event, leave the Chilian flag flying. Eternal vigilance is the price of our success for our beloved country, lieutenant."
"Banzai, captain."
"Banzai, Nippon!"
"Any other orders, Captain Ichi?"
"Watch the wireless. As soon as anything is received, let me know."
"Ay, ay, sir."
The swarthy little lieutenant withdrew, his slant eyes gleaming. A few minutes later he clattered to the bridge and repeated Captain Ichi's orders to the officer of the deck, then, descending, he walked to the door of the wireless room.
"Anything yet, Kaneko?" he inquired, lounging in the door.
A young man in his shirt sleeves bent over a table, the wireless "receivers" pushed close to his ears and held there by his fingers. At the sight of the lieutenant, whose lips he could see moving, although his stopped ears had not allowed him to hear the question, Kaneko removed the helmet.
"Nothing yet, lieutenant," said he. "I have been two hours getting the instrument to spark properly. A damp helix and a feeble motor were the cause, but now I am ready, and waiting."
"Captain Ichi must know as soon as anything is received."
"I shall inform him immediately, lieutenant."
The lieutenant turned away from the door and passed to the port rail. The steamer was standing off and on the coast near the entrance to Magellan Strait. As the lieutenant peered landward, he surveyed the cape, and the long spit of low, sandy land stretching southward. He was somewhat familiar with the English coast, and this South American headland he likened to Berry Head, at the north of Torbay.
Turning from the rail, the lieutenant lifted his eyes to where the phosphor-bronze aërials swung between the mastheads, the wires of each "T" held rigidly apart by their wooden stretchers. A passionate look flamed into his yellow face and gleamed from his slant eyes.
"Come, honorable Hertzian waves," he murmured, with a queer gesture of appeal directed at the swinging wires; "give the Sons of the Rising Sun the telltale sparks, the beautiful blue sparks! Let them spell success for Nippon and disaster for the American submarine!"
Taking a little image from his pocket—the image of a sitting Buddha—the lieutenant placed it on the heaving deck and prostrated himself before it. Then, in a low breath, he murmured his supplications to the senseless ebony. In the midst of his appeal, a stifled crashing sound came from the wireless room. Starting to his feet, the lieutenant caught up the little idol and returned it to his pocket. Exultation arose to his lips, for his upward-turning eyes saw a blue spark wavering at the ends of the aërials, and to his ears came the hiss and crackle of broken sound as the wires plunged back and forth with the roll of the ship.
The operator appeared at the door of the "station" and nodded. The lieutenant rushed aft to notify the captain.
Presently Captain Ichi arrived in the wireless room and sank into a chair by the table.
"Getting anything important, Kaneko?"
The operator shook his head respectfully and continued to listen and to pencil what he heard on a tab of paper. Finally, he settled back in his chair.
"There's a wireless station at Punta Arenas, in the strait, captain," said he.
"Then it must have been recently put there," answered Captain Ichi.
"The Chilians also have a convict settlement at the place."
"Everyone knows that."
"Punta Arenas is calling the Chilian war ship Salvadore."
Captain Ichi wrinkled his brows.
"Your instrument is perfectly tuned with the one at Punta Arenas, Kaneko?"
"Perfectly, captain."
"And you can send in the Spanish so that the trick could not be detected?"
"I know the Spanish as well as I know my native tongue."
"Then answer," was the calm reply. "Say this is the Salvadore and ask what Punta Arenas wants."
There was not a quiver in the captain's voice, and not a tremor in Kaneko's fingers as he caught the handle of the big key. Slowly but firmly he worked the key up and down. A blue spark exploded in the gap between the brass knobs of the discharging rods. Sounds like the explosion of firecrackers echoed through the room.
Throwing off his switch, Kaneko jerked the phones over his ears. The captain watched Kaneko's pencil moving over the white paper.
"Five convicts escaped from Punta Arenas last night in a sloop-rigged boat. Watch for them."
The captain studied the words; then, taking his pencil, he wrote underneath:
"Very well. Anything else?"
Kaneko sent the message. Five minutes, ten minutes, passed; then came the question:
"Is that the Chilian gunboat Salvadore?"
"Yes," lied the blue, telltale sparks.
"The United States submarine, in charge of one Matt King, is going around the Horn. Watch for her; pay her a visit if you can, and have the craft carefully looked over. The submarine Grampus is a marvel of her kind, and a long way ahead of any other underwater boat yet launched."
A shout of exultation escaped the captain.
"Where is the submarine now?" he penciled, with shaking fingers.
"Three days out from the River Plate," was the answer, "and must be well below Cape Virgins by now."
"We will watch for her."
"Try to pick her up before she gets far into the Pacific."
"We will try."
As the spark and sputter ceased, Kaneko jerked off his helmet. Captain Ichi had leaped to his feet and now reached out to grip the operator's hand.
"For the present, Kaneko," he cried, "this is the Chilian warship Salvadore, and we of the Young Samurai are in the Chilian naval service."
"That is good, captain!"
"The Grampus will be expecting a call from us," pursued the captain. "Who knows but the United States authorities have asked the Chilian government to have the Salvadore meet the submarine and escort her to Valparaiso, thus affording her protection from the Sons of the Rising Sun?"
"Exactly so, captain! We shall find the Grampus, and we shall prevent her from falling into the hands of the United States Government at Mare Island."
"We shall!" and a look of grim determination crossed the captain's face as he moved hurriedly toward the door.
"Banzai, Nippon!" called Kaneko.
Captain Ichi, pausing a moment, pulled a flag of his island empire from his pocket and pressed it to his lips. Just outside the door of the wireless room, he met the lieutenant, repeating to him what had taken place in the "station." The lieutenant slapped his hands ecstatically.
"We will call on these Americans who are taking the submarine to Mare Island," said the lieutenant. "It is a rare chance to accomplish our work, Captain Ichi!"
"There could not be a better chance! If possible, the submarine must be destroyed in these southern waters. That, you know, will give us an opportunity to change the color of our vessel and continue our peaceful cruising toward Europe! Our government will never know that we were the ones who destroyed this menace to our beloved Nippon!"
"If they knew it at home—"
The lieutenant did not finish but winced and shrugged his shoulders.
"We should be heavily punished. Even if the United States found it out, their government would demand that we be hung."
"Harikari before that!"
"Harikari? Yes—perhaps that may be best, anyway. We have but one life to give for Nippon."
"And we have vowed to give it! Captain, may I be one of those who visit the Grampus?"
Captain Ichi shook his head.
"I am sorry," said he, "but those who put off to the submarine must have straight eyes! This Motor Matt is one of the sharpest Americans I ever had anything to do with. Slant eyes, lieutenant, would prove that we are not Chilians. Only those who have such eyes can go in the boat."
"She is below the cape?"
"So Punta Arenas reports."
The captain turned and made his way to the bridge. There were two lookouts at the masthead, each watching the surface of the ocean with powerful binoculars.
Captain Ichi gave the quartermaster his course and signaled the engine room for the best speed.
The steamer, flaunting her false colors, bore swiftly away to the southward and toward Cape Horn, bent upon an act of treachery which, to the misguided minds of officers and crew, seemed an act of the highest patriotism.
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