“This man Roque must have a long reach to have known about that consignment of guns, how and when they were to be shipped, and make the strike he did within three days.” Billy was discussing with Henri some of the remarkable features of the recent voyage, as the steamer came in sight of Helgoland Bay, on the return trip.
“He’s a magician, that’s what he is,” maintained Billy. “Did you ever see the beat of the way he unmasked this ship?”
[236]
“And himself,” added Henri.
At the mouth of the Elbe, the tarpaulins again shrouded the warlike fixings that had been revealed by their removal, and it was the familiar “trading vessel,” dandy captain, roustabouts, and all, that went in with the tide.
“Home again, young sirs.”
The oily tradesman once more, horn spectacles, bland address, and benevolent smile—Herr Roque, the peaceful merchant with a liking for bright young men and pleasure trips when business was dull.
“We’ll have a little run up to Kiel by the way of the great canal, a nice jaunt to complete our vacation, young sirs.”
Herr Roque was the picture of innocence, as he genially waved his hand to a party of harbor officials, passing near in a launch. He took snuff from a silver box and extended the compliment of giving the captain a chance to take a pinch.
It was noticeable, however, that the slightest word from the kind “merchant” commanded the instant respect and attention of those about him.
“It would make us all very happy, my dear captain, if you could spare the time to arrange our ship to Kiel. Herr Raum is very anxious to get the goods. He has orders from Berlin to fill.”
This comedy was for the sole benefit of the assemblage on the docks.
[237]
The canvas rolls with the rifles inside were already on the way to Kiel, and the boxes to which Roque was pointing were simply ship supplies.
Billy and Henri were not aware that they had been accorded an unusual privilege when they looked upon the real Roque during the hunt for the channel steamer.
Kiel, in contrast to Hamburg, seethed with activity, the streets swarming with sailors and marines, while in the harbor dispatch boats dashed hither and thither.
Herr Roque kept Billy and Henri close to his elbow, and forbade their engaging in conversation with any stranger, unless duly presented by him. The English tongue was not at all popular in Kiel at this time. Henri, to be sure, could rattle off German like a native, but it was deemed best that he also become a mute like his companion.
Notwithstanding all this precaution, the boys were fated to have their usual adventure before quitting this lively town. They never would stand hitched! Herr Roque had some special business in the town, no doubt concerning the “music boxes,” and he “planted” his young charges in a hotel near the docks, with a word to the landlord to give them a look over now and then.
“I don’t propose to stick around this coffee house all day,” rebelled Billy, “when there is so much going[238] on outside. Let’s join that crowd piking at the harbor. Something’s doing there.”
Henri was in the same humor, and the pair mixed with the mentioned curious crowd.
The attraction was three huge liners transformed by a coat of gray paint and yellow funnels.
The boys pushed their way to the front rank of the viewers, and then a little ahead of what appeared to be the limit of approach.
There was a murmur from the crowd. It was known that soldiers aboard were not allowed to leave these particular ships, popularly believed to be transports destined for the invasion of England, and an equally stern rule that nobody was allowed to come near them.
Of course, Billy and Henri had no knowledge of the rule, and they crossed the deadline as care-free as clams.
Then something dropped. It was a heavy hand on the shoulder of Henri, a few feet in advance of his chum. Somebody set a vise-like grip on Billy’s wrist. A bevy of graybacks fluttered around them. They had committed the unpardonable sin of ignoring a military order, and also they were unpardonably foreign to the soil. They were English, until they proved themselves something else.
A lane opened in the muttering crowd, and through it marched the file of soldiers, with the[239] suspects sandwiched between the leader and the next in line.
At the city hall the soldiers and the suspects abruptly deserted the lengthy street procession behind them, and the prisoners were presented without further ceremony to the bulky occupant of a revolving chair within a railed enclosure.
“What have we here?” sharply questioned the man behind the railing.
The soldier spokesman briefly related the cause of the arrest.
“Lock them up.” This order completed the first hearing.
Billy and Henri a few minutes later perched themselves on a sack mattress filled with straw, in a prison cell.
“‘In the prison cell I sit,’” chanted Billy.
“Don’t be a chump,” complained Henri. “This is a serious matter, I tell you.”
“What’s the use of crying, old top, when you ............