for one moment the five cadets stared in horror at the body, then with one accord they broke for the launch. as they did so the torpedo boat lurched abruptly to one side, tossed by a wave, and the dead man slid gently after them.

as it rolled over on reaching the curve it was brought up against judson’s legs. with a shriek of horror the lad sprang into the sea.

the splash was almost instantly followed by a second. the dead man had rolled after him.

clif quickly regained his senses.

“throw us a rope!” he cried, hurriedly, then over he went in a neat dive that placed him within reach of judson as he bobbed into sight.

the two were speedily hauled on board. judson cowered on deck, completely unstrung. clif was still pale, but he had recovered his usual composure.

“whew! excuse me,” he said, wringing the water from his blouse. “i don’t want any more scares like that. my teeth are chattering yet. can you see any—anything of it, trolley?”

the japanese youth turned back from where he had been gazing into the sea. his swarthy face was a shade lighter, and he shook as if from cold.

“i no see him, clif,” he replied. “and i no want to any more. by jim! i no think him in there.”

“it has gone down,” reported joy, grimly.

“maybe there are more inside,” wailed nanny. “let’s go back to the launch. i’d rather starve than stay on this spooky old thing.”

clif laughed in his old, merry way.

“we are children, every one of us,” he said, lightly. “fancy being afraid of a dead man. come; we’ll resume our investigating.”

“you don’t g-g-get me to leave th-this deck,” chattered judson. “i know when i—i have had enough.”

he moved toward the launch as he spoke.

“where are you going?” asked clif.

“into the boat.”

“if you do, i’ll cut the painter and let you slide,” continued faraday. “what a coward you are!”

judson grumbled something, but he remained on board the torpedo boat. he knew that clif would keep his word.

“we’ll tackle it again, fellows,” announced that youth, cheerily. “if there are any more dead men below we will give them a decent sea burial.”

“nanny,” he added, “suppose you inspect the after part while we——”

“not on your life,” hastily interrupted the little lad. “i go where you do.”

“well, come ahead, then,” laughed clif, leading the way to the open door of the conning tower.

he paused before leaving the deck and cast a glance around the horizon. there was nothing in sight. with a sigh he stepped over the threshold.

the interior of the conning tower was fitted up with the usual objects found in such places. there was a steam steering wheel, a set of electric calls, a compass and a number of loose articles scattered about the deck.

at one side was an iron ladder leading forward into the officer’s quarters. looking down this clif saw that the apartment was empty. the deck was littered with broken chairs, clothing and a riffraff of articles. everywhere were signs of disorder and wreck.

“i believe i understand matters now,” said clif, slowly.

“for goodness’ sake, tell us!” exclaimed nanny.

“i think something must have happened on board this boat to frighten the crew, and they abandoned it in a desperate hurry.”

“but that dead man?” said joy.

“he was caught in the conning tower by the slamming of the door, and was left behind.”

“but what kill him?” spoke up trolley. “this boat no been long abandoned, and he no die by starvation.”

clif laughed.

“you stump me, trolley,” he confessed. “i guess we are no nearer the solution than before. we’ll have to search further for clews.”

“and grub,” put in nanny.

“yes, and grub.”

clif led the way into the officers’ mess-room, which was at the foot of the iron ladder. picking up a coat, he examined it critically.

“we haven’t thought about the nationality of this craft,” he said. “i do not believe it is an american or english torpedo boat.”

“i guess you are right,” called out joy, holding up a bundle of periodicals. “these are certainly not english.”

clif took them from his hand and glanced at the first.

“it’s a french newspaper,” he announced. “and the others are also french.”

“here’s a book on navigation in the same language,” spoke up nanny from one corner of the apartment.

“this settle it,” cried trolley, triumphantly waving a tricolored flag he had found in an open drawer. “this is french torpedo——”

bang!

the boys started and exchanged glances of consternation. the sharp clang of an iron door closing violently came from aft.

nanny made a leap for the short flight of stairs leading to the deck and disappeared before clif could stop him.

“what——” began joy.

before he could finish the sentence a loud cry came from above and nanny reappeared in the opening. he was greatly excited.

“come on deck!” he gasped, swinging his arms. “quick! there’s a ship in sight, and judson has stolen the launch to go to it!”

the three cadets dashed through the conning tower, and on reaching the upper deck saw instantly that nanny had spoken the truth.

just barely visible above the rim of the sea off the port beam were the upper topsails of a ship. and standing away toward it was the sailing launch with judson in the stern.

“oh, the miserable villain!” cried clif, shaking his fist after the recreant lad.

“hi! come back you——” trolley ended with a string of japanese expletives.

the launch was not too far distant for judson to hear, but he paid no heed.

“if i have gun i make him come back,” said trolley, savagely. “some day i beat him head off.”

clif remained silent. leaning against the conning tower he watched the launch skim over the dancing waves. but there was an expression upon his handsome face that bodied ill for the traitor.

in the excitement of the moment the mysterious slamming of the door below had been forgotten, but it soon recurred to clif.

“we’ve got to find out what’s aft,” he said, after a pause. “nanny, you remain on deck and keep watch while trolley, joy and i go below.”

“do you think it’s the old monongahela?” asked the lanky plebe, staring at the distant sail.

“hard to say. it may be. i wish we could make some kind of a signal.”

“why not start a smoke?” suggested nanny, brightly. “we can make a fire on this iron deck and——”

“we’ll do it in the furnaces,” hastily interrupted clif. “it’s a good idea.”

he ran along the sloping top of the torpedo boat and was soon tugging away at the door of the after conning tower. he knew from previous study on the subject that crafts of that class have the crew’s quarters in the stern.

the hull is too narrow for passage from one end to the other, and all communications must necessarily be made by way of the upper deck. the mysterious noise had come from this part of the craft, clif reasoned, so if there were any one on board they would be found in the after apartments.

the combined efforts of the three boys finally sprung the door open. as it yielded they hastily jumped aside. their experience with one dead man was sufficient.

“i guess the supply has run short,” said clif, grimly, as he peered into the circular room.

“everything looks shipshape down there,” remarked joy, pointing to where a glimpse of the lower interior could be seen. “come on.”

he made one step over the threshold, then he stopped with a gasp. from some spot below came a weird, shrill voice.

“au secours! au secours!” it said. “j’ai faim. au secours!”

joy hastily sprang back. his face had paled and his hands trembled as he pointed behind him.

“there’s a man below there,” he cried. “did you hear that?”

“i heard him,” replied clif, eagerly. “it’s a frenchman, sure enough. he is calling for help.”

leaping past his companions, he disappeared down the ladder leading to the lower deck. joy and trolley tumbled after him.

they found themselves in a much larger apartment than that forward. it was not furnished so comfortably, containing only a few benches, a swinging table and half a dozen hammocks.

a pile of broken crockery occupied one corner, and swinging from hooks were several pans, and strings of tin cups.

forward of the larger apartment was another, also containing hammocks. in this latter room were several chests, one being marked with a name in black letters. it was evidently the name of the torpedo boat. it ran:

“le destructeur,”

and after it was the word “havre.”

“that settles the nationality,” said clif.

he peered about the apartments, but nowhere could he see a man or anything resembling a man. the voice had surely come from this part of the ship.

“hello! hello!” called out joy, stamping his foot. “qui, qui, monseer, avec vous in here anywhere?”

clif was compelled to smile at the lanky cadet’s attempt at french. he had studied it at home himself sufficiently to read and understand, but he could not speak it correctly.

“this is certainly strange,” he said, poking behind the chests. “where in the deuce is the fellow?”

“maybe he in fire-room,” suggested trolley.

“that’s so. let me see, the only way to get in there is by way of the hatch on deck. we’ll try it.”

after another thorough search the three boys started to ascend the ladder. just as clif, who was last, reached the conning tower, a shrill, queer voice broke out behind him:

“c’est epatant qu’en angleterre.

y’ait des anglais.”

it was a snatch of a recent popular parisian air!

the cadets stood as if turned to stone. the voice came from almost directly under their feet. and the tone! and the words!

clif felt his hair tingle, and a cold shiver run down his back. it was uncanny, to say the least.

trolley, ordinarily jolly, had an expression much like that of a man who had met a ghost in a dark wood. and joy was not a whit better.

“guess the d-d-darned thing’s too much for me,” he said, shakily. “suppose we go on deck and th-think it over?”

“not much,” replied clif, but with no great emphasis. “there’s a man down there somewhere, either sick or crazy, and it’s our duty to find him.”

“where in thunder is he? we’ve searched the confounded place from deck to ceiling.”

“he not in fire-room,” said trolley.

“no. that voice——”

“de l’eau! de l’eau! de l’eau!”

the words floated up the opening as plainly as words can be spoken. but this time they seemed to come from the after end of the crew’s quarters.

clif sprang down the ladder at great risk to his neck.

when the others followed they found him tumbling the hammocks about.

trolley and joy assisted him, but the three had only their labor for their pains. not a sign of the mysterious stranger could they find.

[pg 186]announced joy, “but this child is going on deck. excuse me; i don’t want any french shades in mine. the old tank is—oh, lud!”

he broke for the ladder and scrambled from sight. from almost over his head had come a groan.

this time clif was thoroughly startled. the place, the circumstances and the voice was too much for him, and he hastened after joy with trolley a close third.

on reaching the deck they found the lanky cadet leaning against the conning tower and looking rather foolish. he evaded their gaze and pointed astern.

the action of the waves had brought the distant sail in that direction.

clif gave an exclamation of keen disappointment.

“she’s passing!” he said. “she’s much further away. we must do something if we want to attract her attention.”

he paused only to see that the sailing launch was still in view, then he began to tug away at the iron hatch leading to the after fire-room. it required considerable effort to open it, but the iron hatch yielded at last, revealing a perpendicular ladder leading into a dark space below.

clif’s anxiety to start a signal caused him to forget his previous fears. with a cheery “come on, fellows,” he dropped down the ladder.

it was the after of the two fire-rooms with which le destructeur was provided. the small furnace—small in comparison with the general run of men-of-war furnaces—occupied the greater part of the compartment.

the fire-box door swung open, clanging back and forth with each roll of the hull. scattered about were heaps of coal and ashes. over in one corner was a pile of oily waste.

seizing an armful, clif thrust it into the fire-box, then he began to search his pockets. he looked up with a laugh as trolley and joy descended the ladder.

“if you want to see a first-class chump, just look at me,” he said.

“what’s up?” asked joy.

“been looking for matches in a pocket that’s soaked with salt water. we must have something to light this fire with. joy, run down aft and see if you can find a match.”

“excuse me,” hastily objected the lanky cadet. “send trolley.”

“not much,” exclaimed that youth. “i no like french ghosts.”

“then i’ll go myself,” replied clif, moving toward the ladder.

“i say,” interrupted joy, stopping him. “why not send nanny? the kid didn’t hear the voice. perhaps he’ll solve the mystery.”

clif chuckled.

“we’ll try it,” he decided, and forthwith began to shout for the youngster.

presently nanny’s head and shoulders darkened the opening.

“what’s the matter?” he asked.

“where is the ship now?”

“almost disappeared. can just see a smudge.”

“and the launch?”

“judson is still sailing in that direction.”

“i say, nanny,” said clif, sweetly, “just drop down into the crew’s quarters and see if you can find a match. i want to start a smoke. hurry, that’s a good fellow. we haven’t any time to lose.”

nanny vanished. the boys exchanged grins, and awaited results.

“if he survives the shock he’ll be an invalid for a week,” chuckled joy.

“i am rather sorry i sent him,” said clif, regretfully. “he’s such a timid little chap that it may——”

a shrill yell interrupted him, then came a distant rattling and banging, then another wild shriek.