The Submarine Hunters

Still protesting vehemently but ineffectually, the detective was unceremoniously hustled into an ante-room, used since the outbreak of the war as a guard-room for the military in charge of the line. The door was locked upon him. He heard the train rumble out of the station.

CHAPTER XIV

A Fruitless Quest

From their places of concealment Ross and Vernon watched the boat train run alongside the steamer. At last the weary vigil was a thing of the past. All fatigue was forgotten at the prospect of witnessing the capture of one of the active members of the German spy system at work in this country.

For a quarter of an hour everything was in a state of bustle. There was a continuous stream of passengers and porters, the latter bending under the weight of trunks and boxes as they hurried up the steeply sloping gangway.

At length the throng thinned. As yet there was no sign either of von Ruhle or of Detective-inspector Hawke.

A man with his coat collar turned up ran through the driving rain and entered the shed. It was Ferret.

"Something's gone wrong," he declared. "I've just had a telephone message from my colleague. I'm off to the post-office. If you want me during the next ten minutes you'll find me there."

Hawke had at length managed to get a word with his former fellow-traveller, who happened to be a staff-officer of the Eastern command. The detective had been under a misapprehension. The officer had good reason for ordering his arrest; but the comedy threatened to take a serious development. Even when the detective showed his credentials the officer was not satisfied. He proposed telegraphing to Scotland Yard, but Hawke, mindful of a former failure, induced him not to do so. The detective, who had occasion to contrast unfavourably the summary powers of arrest under the Defence of the Realm Act with those allowed by the Civil Power, was eventually allowed to communicate with his brother officer at Parkeston Quay. And then the military authorities required a considerable amount of convincing. It looked as if Detective-inspector Hawke would have to remain under arrest until next morning.

While Ferret was losing time and patience in his efforts to release his confrère, Ross and Vernon noticed a man hurrying along the quay. He was short and thick-set. He wore a long mackintosh, the collar of which was turned up and helped, with the peak of his cap, to hide his features.

Suddenly the man's foot tripped over a ring-bolt. He cursed under his breath, but sufficiently loudly for the lads to overhear.

Ross gripped his companion's arm. The fellow was swearing in German.

"Von Ruhle!" he whispered. He made a movement as if to issue from his place of concealment, but Haye restrained him.

"Hold on!" he cautioned in a low voice.

The man paused on the gangway. A partly shaded electric light threw a glare upon his face. He wore a heavy beard and moustache.

"You're wrong," whispered Vernon.

"He's a German, anyhow," persisted Trefusis.

The man still hesitated. Then he hailed a seaman.

"Where is the post office?" he asked. "I wish to telegraph. Is there time before the boat sails?"

Receiving an affirmative reply the man hurried off.

"Come on!" exclaimed Ross.

Neither of the lads had now any doubts as to the man's identity. The beard and moustache were false, but the voice was the same—von Ruhle's.

Keeping close to the wall of the line of sheds, the lads followed the spy at a distance of about fifty feet. More than once von Ruhle glanced furtively over his shoulder, as if suspecting that he was being tracked.

Presently a man, reeling along the quay, approached. The spy made no effort to avoid him. As the inebriated one rolled past he whispered a few words. The effect was instantaneous. Instead of continuing his way towards the post office, von Ruhle turned and made off abruptly in the direction of the gate of the Company's premises.

"An accomplice," whispered Vernon. "He's been warned."

They had to wait until the man who had feigned drunkenness had disappeared. By this time the German had gained a considerable distance. To get the assistance of the detective was out of the question.

"Come on!" exclaimed Ross, breaking into a run.

Concealment was no longer necessary. Should occasion arise, there would be plenty of help forthcoming, for there were several dock policemen and soldiers on duty close at hand.

Von Ruhle had increased his pace into a brisk walk when he heard the noise of his pursuers. Then he, too, began to run.

"Stop him!" shouted Trefusis, calling to a group of uniformed men standing in front of an abattoir.

Turning, the German made towards the quay-side. He was no match in speed for his youthful pursuers; but he gained the water's edge before Ross headed him off.

"Give in, von Ruhle!" he challenged.

The spy recognized the voice of the British lad whom he imagined to be miles away, on board an unterseeboot.