Chapter XIII: Off for the Gulf

It was easily seen that Gaines was nearly spent. His breath tore through his lips in gasps, and when he reached the edge of the wharf, he fell there, unable to roll over the edge and drop down on the deck of the _Grampus_.

Out of the bushes at the top of the bank came the foremost of the pursuing soldiers. Fortunately for Matt and Gaines, they were armed with muzzle-loaders, and were frantically getting another charge into the barrels.

Dropping the hatchet, Matt leaped to the wharf, caught Gaines and pulled him down on the deck; then, springing back, he picked up the hatchet and severed the cable with a blow.

The bow of the submarine caught the current, swung farther out into the stream, then whirled around and started away. This placed the conning tower between Matt and Gaines, and several bullets hit the tower and glanced singing into the air.

"You're all right, Gaines," said Matt, bending over the motorist. "You got out of that fix----"

"By the skin of my teeth!" panted Gaines. "Oh, what a run! I never ran so fast, and so far, and over so many stones and briers, before in my life. I thought, a dozen times, they had me."

"Hard luck that you should have run into the rebels when you were looking for the soldiers of General Mendez."

"Rebels?" cried Gaines. "Why, Matt, those fellows weren't rebels. They were the loyalist soldiers!"

"The troops of General Mendez?"

"Yes."

"Then," queried Matt angrily, "why were they chasing you, and shooting at you?"

"I give it up. They must have taken me for one of the rebels--possibly they thought I was General Pitou."

"They couldn't have thought that," answered Matt. "The general is only about half your size."

"Clackett told you why I got out through the torpedo tube?"

"Yes. But how did you ever do it without being seen by Fingal and his men?"

"I was shot along upstream, and straight into the bank. Fingal was sitting on the deck at the time, and the sudden heave of the forward end of the boat drew his attention, but he didn't see me. As soon as I could I got up the bank, but the compressed air had made me dizzy and I was obliged to rest before I could travel. After I got started I found that I couldn't go fast on account of my bare feet. I must have been about a mile away before I saw any soldiers. There was a straggling column of them, and they appeared to be the vanguard of an advancing army. They were Mendez's men, and I was pleased a lot, because I was sure I could get them to go back with me and help recapture the submarine.

"When I started toward them, though, they began to shoot and to run toward me. I couldn't stop and explain, for I wasn't at all sure that my explanation would be accepted. So all I could do was turn and see how quick I could get back over the ground. That's about all, Matt. But how did you get clear? It was a surprise to see you on the boat. I was expecting to be met by Fingal and his gang."

"That's too much to tell just now, Gaines. We're all free, however, and all together once more. We have been waiting for you."

"What became of Fingal?"

"He's a prisoner."

"Good! Any more prisoners?"

"General Pitou----"

"General Pitou!"

"Yes; and one of Fingal's men, and another who is more a friend of Ysabel Sixty's than he is of Fingal's."

"What about Ysabel Sixty?"

"She's below, too."

"Where did she come from?"

"She was one of those we took out of that yawl. We all thought she was a boy until she told us who she was. We owe our escape to her."

While sitting on the deck, Gaines had been slowly recovering his strength. He was still muttering dazedly over Matt's amazing disclosures, when Speake showed himself at the hatch.

"You fellows better come below!" he called. "Dick said you wanted the boat submerged, Matt, an' I guess that the quicker we do it the better. There's an outfit of black soldiers, dead ahead, waiting for us."

Matt whirled around and allowed his eyes to follow the direction of Speake's pointing finger.

On a shelf-like projection of the high bank, perhaps a quarter of a mile ahead, was a group of rebels. They could be seen only indistinctly, but it was apparent from their actions that they were waiting for the _Grampus_ to come within good range.

"Climb for the hatch, Gaines!" ordered Matt. "We've got to get below the surface. If we stay out here, while we're passing those soldiers, they'll shoot us off the deck."

Gaines got to his feet and walked painfully to the tower. After he had climbed in, and vanished, Matt followed, closing the hatch behind him.

"Fill the ballast tanks, Clackett!" called Matt, through the tank-room tube. "About ten feet will do, just so the periscope ball is awash."

A moment more and the submarine began to settle downward.

"What are you going to do when we get near the fort, Matt?" asked Speake.

"I don't believe the rebels have had time to plant any submarine mines," said Matt. "It takes some time to do that, and not enough time has elapsed since Don Carlos reached the fort and reported that the submarine had been captured. We'll pass the fort under water, and chance the mines. Better that than running on the surface and being bombarded."

Patter, patter came a ringing hail on the deck.

"Ah!" cried Gaines, "the soldiers are taking a whack at us!" He laughed derisively. "I guess we can stand as much of that as they want to give us. Their lead slides from the deck like water off a duck's back."

Patter, patter--_smash_!

"Great spark plugs!" cried Matt. "What was that? Something broke."

"The periscope ball!" gasped Speake. "They've put the periscope out of commission. Empty the tanks!" he yelled into the tank-room tube.

The periscope table reflected nothing of the treacherous channel along which the current and the propeller were carrying the _Grampus_ at a terrific pace.

It was necessary to come to the surface as quickly as possible and use the conning-tower lunettes.

"Reverse your engine, Dick!" cried Matt to the motor room. "Full speed astern!"

The engine was instantly reversed, but not until the submarine had run into some obstruction, halting her with a jar that threw all her passengers off their feet.

For a moment the silence was broken only by the hum of the fiercely working cylinders, and the splash and bubble of the current as it met the obstruction of the huge steel shell.

"Cut out the turbines!" yelled Matt; "empty the tanks by compressed air. Full speed astern, Dick! Every ounce of power now!"

"What's happened, do you think, Matt?"

The question came from Ysabel. She had been sitting on the locker in the periscope room, watching eagerly all that had taken place.

"The river winds about a good deal, Ysabel," Matt answered, "and we have probably run into the bank. When the periscope went out of commission it prevented us from keeping track of our course. Ah!" he added, noticing that the propeller was dragging them against the current and away from the bank, and that they were rising toward the surface. "We'll do, now."

"But we can't pass them cannon on the surface," observed Speake.

"There's nothing else for it, Speake," answered Matt, "but a dash straight for the gulf. We'll have to keep to the surface, and if the rebels are able to aim straight, they're going to give us a lively time."

Matt relieved Speake in the conning tower. With his eyes against the lunettes, the king of the motor boys kept keen watch ahead as turn after turn of the river unfolded before the racing boat.

At last they came close to a bend on the opposite side of which Matt knew there was a straightway stretch of water leading to the gulf.

He signaled the motor room for full speed astern once more, then slowed down until the backward pull of the propeller just balanced the rush of the current, the _Grampus_ hanging stationary in mid-stream.

"Gaines," called Matt, "are you well enough to take the engine? I want Dick up here with me."

"Sure," answered Gaines.

"Then go down and send him up."

Dick reached the periscope room in a few moments.

"Dick," said Matt, "our periscope is out of commission and we've got to pass the fort on the surface of the river. We could wait until night. That would give the rebels less of a chance at us, but it would also make our dash for the gulf a good deal more dangerous. The daylight has advantages as well as disadvantages, and so has the night. What do you say?"

"I'm for running their bally old fort," answered Dick. "We'll go so fast they can't hit us."

"Get the Stars and Stripes out of the locker, Dick," said Matt. "We'll haul it up to the staff as we pass and see if it commands their respect."

Matt threw open the conning-tower hatch. The next moment, with his body half exposed above the hatch, he rang for full speed ahead.

As the _Grampus_ started on the last leg of her dangerous voyage, Dick forced his way up beside his chum.

"Give me room, old ship," said he, between his teeth. "I'm going out on deck. If the flag commands any respect, it will be under my personal supervision."

"Run up the flag and then get back below," answered Matt, squeezing to one side of the tower so that Dick could pass.

Dick had kicked off his shoes and thrown aside his hat. Stripped for action, he bent the flag to the halyards as the submarine swept onward toward the threatening wall of the fort.