href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@46117@[email protected]#chapter23" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">LOCOMOTIVE VERSUS AEROPLANE

XXIV.   A BRUSH WITH THE INDIANS XXV.   THE CAPTURE OF THE CAVARALE XXVI.   UNABLE TO RISE XXVII.   PREPARING FOR THE PRESIDENT'S VISIT XXVIII.   A PRISONER OF WAR XXIX.   WORK FOR THE SEAPLANES XXX.   THE FALL OF NAOCUANHA XXXI.   A SURPRISE FOR DACRES XXXII.   A SUBMARINE ENCOUNTER XXXIII.   NEWS OF DURANGO XXXIV.   THE CHASE XXXV.   THE THUNDERSTORM XXXVI.   THE ABANDONED FLYING-BOAT XXXVII.   THE GALAPAGOS FISHERMEN XXXVIII.   CORNERED XXXIX.   DACRES' PROMOTION

CHAPTER I.

CONCERNING SUB-LIEUTENANT DACRES.

IT was Thursday afternoon—Make and Mend Clothes Day as it is known in the Royal Navy. H.M.S. "Royal Oak," a Super-Dreadnought now relegated to the second class, lay at moorings off Singapore. Two cables' length ahead of her swung her sister ship the "Repulse," flying the flag of Admiral Maynebrace commanding the Special Squadron, now on a cruise round the world in order to display the White Ensign in foreign waters as a gentle reminder to petty potentates that the British Lion's tail could not be twisted with impunity.

The heat was terrific. The sun's scorching rays beat down with relentless violence upon the white awnings that shrouded the warships from bow to stern. The glare, reflected from the oily sea, seemed to penetrate everywhere on board in spite of electric fans and the latest type of ventilators. Officers and men, used though they were to the heat of the Tropics, were reduced to a state of perspiring listlessness. Alacrity seemed for the time being no longer the characteristic of the British seamen. One and all they barely existed in Nature's stew-pan and waited for the sun to set.

To add to the discomfort the crew of the "Royal Oak" were rankling under a grievance. Hitherto first in the list for prize-firing, they had been ousted from their proud position by the flagship: and the flagship didn't forget to crow over her success. Had the contest been carried out under equal conditions and the "Royal Oak" had "gone under" the disappointment would not have been so great; but the "Repulse" had gained the position of "top-dog" more by a fluke than anything else.

"Makes one feel jolly rotten," remarked Eccles, the "Royal Oak's" gunnery jack. "The Service papers at home will publish the results and add a lot about the superb efficiency of the flagship and the lamentable falling-off of the 'Royal Oak's' gun-layers. All that sort of twaddle, you know: penny-a-line stuff from a fellow who does not know a fifteen-inch from a seven-pounder."

"You'll bet your bottom dollar, Eccles, there won't be a word said about the flagship making her record with the Beaufort Scale logged as O (a flat calm), while our packet was shoving her nose into it with the fo'c'sle awash and everything battened down. Ugh! It makes me wild," rejoined Commander Bourne. "Healthy rivalry is all very well, but——"

"I don't know whether you heard the yarn," said Eccles, "but indirectly an outstanding row between the Admiral and the skipper has something to do with it: a little misunderstanding they had when they were at Osborne, I believe. And the fact that Maynebrace is now an admiral and Staggers only a captain doesn't improve matters. The owner forgets sometimes that the Admiral's grandfather was an earl and his only a post-captain."

"I did hear something of the sort," replied Bourne. "It's a pity that personal matters are taken into consideration in the Service. Anyway, Captain Staggers would be glad of a chance to pull the Admiral's leg."

"Hear that?" asked little Dick Alderney, the midshipman of the watch.

"Rather," agreed Sub-lieutenant Basil Dacres emphatically. "It almost gives one a cue."

Basil Dacres was a tall, alert-looking young officer of nineteen. His features were clean cut, his complexion tanned to a deep brown by reason of exposure to the sun and the salt breezes of three of the five oceans. His athletic