"Steamer ahoy! What do you want?"

"Want all that bullion stowed in your strong room," answered Forsythe through a megaphone; "and, if you please, speak more distinctly, for the wash of your bow wave prevents my hearing what you say."

The officer was handed a megaphone, and through it his voice came down like a thunderclap.

"You want the bullion stowed in our strong room, do you? Anything else you want, sir?"

"Yes," answered Forsythe. "We want a boat full of provisions. Three barrels of flour, the rest in canned meats and vegetables."

"Anything else?" There was as much derision in the voice as can carry through a megaphone.

"That is all," answered Forsythe. "Load your gold into one of your own boats, the provisions in another. Lower them down and let the falls unreeve, so that they will go adrift. We will pick them up."

"Well, of all the infernal impudence I ever heard, yours is the worst. I judge that you are that crew of jail-breakers we've heard of that stole a government boat and turned pirates."

"You are right," answered Forsythe; "but don't waste our time. Will you give us what we asked for, or shall we sink you?"

"Sink us, you scoundrel? You can't, and you'd better not try, or threaten to. Your position is known, and three scouts started this morning from Boston and New York."

"That bluff don't go," answered Forsythe. "Will you cough up?"

"No; most decidedly _no_!" roared the officer, who might, or might not, have been the captain.

"Kelly," said Forsythe, "send that Whitehead straight into him."

Whitehead torpedoes, be it known, are mechanical fish of machined steel, self-propelling and self-steering, actuated by a small air engine, and carrying in their "war heads" a charge of over two hundred pounds of guncotton, and in their blunt noses a detonating cap to explode it on contact.

At Forsythe's word, Kelly turned a lever on the tube, and the contained torpedo dived gently overboard.

Denman, looking closely, saw it appear once on the surface, porpoiselike, before it dived to its indicated depth.

"The inhuman devil!" he commented, with gritting teeth.

A muffled report came from the depths. A huge mound of water lifted up, to break into shattered fragments and bubbles. Then these bubbles burst, giving vent to clouds of brown and yellow smoke; while up through the ventilators and out through the opened lower deadlights came more of this smoke, and the sound of human voices, screaming and groaning. These sounds were drowned in the buzzing of thousands of other voices on deck as men, women, and children fought their way toward the stern.

"Do you agree?" yelled Forsythe, through the megaphone. "Do you agree, or shall we unload every torpedo we've got into your hull?"

Old Kelly had calmly marshaled the crew to the next torpedo, and looked up to Forsythe for the word. But it did not come.

Instead, over the buzzing of the voices, came the officer's answer, loud and distinct:

"We agree. We understand that your necks are in the halter, and that you have nothing to lose, even though you should fill every compartment and drown every soul on board this ship. So we will accede to your demands.

We will fill one boat with the bullion and another with provisions, and cast them adrift. But do not fire again, for God's sake!"

"All right," answered Forsythe. "Bear a hand."

Breast to breast, the two craft charged along, while two boats were lowered to the level of the main deck, and swiftered in to the rail.

Sailors appeared from the doors in pairs, each carrying a box that taxed their strength and made them stagger. There were ten in all, and they slowly and carefully ranged them along the bottom of one of the boats, so as to distribute their weight.

While this was going on, stewards and galley helpers were filling the other boat with provisions--in boxes, barrels, and packages. Then the word was given, and the boats were cast off and lowered, the tackles of the heavier groaning mightily under the strain.

When they struck the water, the falls were instantly let go; and, as the boats drifted astern, the tackles unrove their long length from the blocks, and were hauled on board again.

Forsythe stopped the engines, and then backed toward the drifting boats.

As the destroyer passed the stern of the giant steamer, a shout rang out; but only Denman heard it above the buzzing of voices. And it seemed that only he saw Casey spring from the high rail of the mammoth into the sea; for the rest were busy grappling for the boat's painters, and Forsythe was looking aft.

When the painters were secured and the boats drawn alongside, Forsythe rang for half speed; and the boat, under a port wheel, swung away from the _Gigantia_, and went ahead.

"There is your man Casey," yelled Denman, excitedly. "Are you going to leave him?"

Forsythe, now looking dead ahead, seemed not to hear; but Riley spoke from the hatch:

"Hold yer jaw back there, or ye'll get a passage, too."

With Casey's cries in his ears--sick at heart in the belief that not even a life-buoy would avail, for the giant steamship had not stopped her engines throughout the whole transaction, and was now half a mile away, Denman went down to Florrie, obediently waiting, yet nervous and frightened.

He told her nothing of what had occurred--but soothed and quieted her with the assurance that they would be rescued soon.

CHAPTER XXV

The engine stopped; and, climbing the steps to look forward, Denman saw the bridge deserted, and the whole ten surrounding an equal number of strong boxes, stamped and burned with official-looking letters and numbers. Farther along were the provision; and a peep astern showed Denman the drifting boats.

The big _Gigantia_ had disappeared in the haze that hid the whole horizon; but up in the western sky was a portent--a black silhouette of irregular out-line, that grew larger as he looked.

It was a monoplane--an advance scout of a scout boat--and Denman recognized the government model. It seemed to have sighted the destroyer, for it came straight on with a rush, circled overhead, and turned back.

There was no signal made; and, as it dwindled away in the west, Denman's attention was attracted to the men surrounding the boxes; only Munson was still watching the receding monoplane. But the rest were busy. With hammers and cold chisels from the engine room they were opening the boxes of treasure.

"Did any one see that fellow before?" demanded Munson, pointing to the spot in the sky.

A few looked, and the others answered with oaths and commands: "Forget it! Open the boxes! Let's have a look at the stuff!"

But Munson spoke again. "Forsythe, how about the big fellow's wireless?

We didn't disable it. He has sent the news already. What do you think?"

"Oh, shut up!" answered Forsythe, irately. "I didn't think of it.

Neither did any one. What of it? Nothing afloat can catch us. Open the box. Let's have a look, and we'll beat it for Africa."

"I tell you," vociferated Munson, "that you'd better start now--at full speed, too. That's a scout, and the mother boat isn't far away."

"Will you shut up, or will I shut you up?" shouted Forsythe.

"You'll not shut me up," retorted Munson. "You're the biggest fool in this bunch, in spite of your bluff. Why don't you go ahead and get out o' this neighborhood?"

A box cover yielded at this juncture, and Forsythe did not immediately answer. Instead, with Munson himself, and Billings the cook--insanely emitting whoops and yelps as he danced around for a peep--he joined the others in tearing out excelsior from the box. Then the bare contents came to view.

"Lead!" howled Riley, as he stood erect, heaving a few men back with his shoulders. "Lead it is, if I know wan metal from another."