"Oh, they can run away too," said Larry.

"Not unless they abandon their fort,--and that would be just as if we should abandon our ship."

The work at the gun had been severe, and after the bombardment was over Larry was glad to clean up and take a rest. The perspiration, grime, and smoke had made him look like a negro, and he used up several buckets of water before he got himself into as cleanly a condition as was habitual with him. Luke also took a "scrubbing down," as he called it, and so did the others.

What amazed Larry more than anything was the quietness of the j.a.panese sailors. Now that the bombardment was ended they said scarcely a word about it, but went on exactly as before.

"They are the most matter-of-fact chaps I ever saw!" he declared. "I believe if the ship blew up they would say 'Very sorry' and swim away.

Now on one of Uncle Sam's ships the men would be all woke up and out for a jollification. Ben says it's the same way in the army. If they get excited at all they always seem to be sorry for it afterwards!"

"That's what ye call a characteristic o' the race, I reckon," returned Luke. "They're taught to act that way from babyhood. It ain't polite nor high-toned to git excited. The only thing they kin yell is _Banzai!_ an'

they let thet out loud enough, goodness knows!"

"I can't understand why we didn't keep at that fort," came from Colton.

"I was just getting the range beautifully when orders came to shut down."

"Well, there must be a reason for it, Steve," answered Luke.

There was a reason for it. Admiral Togo had just received word that certain ships of the Port Arthur squadron were going to make an attempt to break out of the harbor, either that night or the next day.

Consequently the _Shohirika_ was needed further down the coast, and steamed away in that direction as rapidly as her somewhat limited supply of coal permitted.

"I don't think the navy will ever find its way into Port Arthur harbor,"

said Larry, later on, after studying a map of that locality. "There are too many forts on the hills outside of the town. They could smash our ships to smithereens if we got too close."

"Trust Admiral Togo to know what he is doing," answered Steve Colton.

"He won't go too close. At the same time he ain't going to let the Russian ships get away any more than Schley and Sampson let Admiral Cervera get away from Santiago Harbor in Cuba."

"It's the army that will make Port Arthur a hot place to live in," came from Bob Stanford. "They can entrench and thus gain a little ground day by day, and as soon as they win some high point, like say 203-Meter Hill, it will be all up with General Stoessel, mark my words."

The night to follow proved to be misty, and so cold that the majority of the sailors were glad to don their heavy peajackets. Fearing that the enemy would try to take advantage of the weather, Admiral Togo turned on all the searchlights his fleet possessed, and these were flashed in all directions.

"False alarm," said Luke, after midnight had sounded out on the ship's bell. "Reckon the Russians don't dare to come out."

But the old Yankee tar was mistaken. The enemy were on the alert, and at three o'clock, when the mist was extra heavy, the movement to steal out of Port Arthur harbor was begun, two torpedo destroyers taking the lead, and several cruisers following. This brought on a heavy sea-fight lasting far into the next day, and one which came close to cost Larry his life.

CHAPTER XXVI

BEN MEETS CAPTAIN BARUSKY

For several days poor Ben remained a prisoner aboard of the small steamer. During that time only two men came near him--an under officer and the sailor who supplied him with food and water. Neither would answer his questions, so he could not learn where he was being taken or what was to be done with him.

One evening there was a slight commotion on the deck, and the course of the steamer was changed. Then came a blowing of steam whistles lasting several minutes. Finally the steamer came to a standstill.

"You are to leave this vessel at once," said the under officer, as he opened the door of the young captain's temporary prison. "Come, we have no time to spare."

"Where am I to go?" questioned Ben.

"You will soon learn. Hurry!"

There was no help for it, and soon Ben was on deck. He was made to enter a small boat and was thus transferred to another steamer--one which had formerly been in the East Indian trade but which was now acting as a Russian supply boat.

"What a dirty craft!" was his mental comment, after having been thrust into a pen which was little better than a horse stall. The supply boat was loaded to its fullest capacity, so quarters for all on board were limited.

Two days pa.s.sed and he received food which was scarcely fit to eat. When he protested he was threatened with a flogging. The air was foul and he began to fear that he would become sick.

"I won't be able to stand this much longer," he thought, dismally. "If they want to kill me why don't they do it at once and have done with it?"

On the following morning a surprise awaited him. He heard two Russian officers pause in front of his pen and one said to the other:

"Here is the prisoner, Captain Barusky."

"Is it the fellow named Russell?" was the question from Captain Barusky, the rascal who had aided Ivan Snokoff to make so much trouble for Gilbert Pennington.

"The same."

"They did not capture his friend?"

"No--in the struggle he slipped away."

"I am sorry for that. We wanted Pennington more than we did this fellow.

But I am glad we got at least one of them. As I understand it they work hand-in-glove with each other;" and then the two Russian officers pa.s.sed on.

Like a flash Ben realized the truth of the situation. His taking off had been a trap set by Snokoff and this Captain Barusky, who had hired the Chunchuses to help work out their plot. He was now in the hands of the enemy in more ways than one.

"They won't treat me as an ordinary prisoner," he reasoned. "This Captain Barusky will make it as hard as possible for me--more especially so as Gilbert managed to escape his clutches. Well, I am glad Gilbert got away."

Resolved to "take the bull by the horns," Ben asked the prison guard if he might speak to Captain Barusky.

"I will see about it," answered the sailor, and went off to find out. On his return he stated that the captain would visit the pen some time during the day.

The Russian officer came late in the afternoon, when n.o.body else was near the pen. There was a sarcastic look on his face when he gazed at the young captain.

"So you want to talk to me," he said, abruptly.

"I do, Captain Barusky. I want to know why this plot was laid against me."

"I know of no plot. You are an American in the employ of the j.a.panese Government as a spy. Russia captures all the j.a.panese spies she can."

"I am no spy."

The Russian shrugged his shoulders. "That is what your friend, Captain Pennington, once told me, too. Yet as soon as he got out of Port Arthur he was made a captain in the Mikado's army."

"He applied for the position because the Russians had mistreated him and because he loves active service."

"Have it as you please, Russell; both of you are spies, and you will have to suffer as one."