"
"America in it?" demanded Madden.
"Right enough. Canada is sendin' troops and----"
"America! America! The United States of America!"
"Oh, no, she's the only nootral in th' whole world among th' big powers!
But she'll be in soon enough!"
"What's this we're on?" inquired Caradoc. "It isn't a warship?"
"Kind o' warship. It's a mother ship for submarines--sort of floatin'
dry dock for the little sneakers. She takes 'em aboard, over'auls 'em,
gives 'em new stores and torpedoes."
"England at war!" repeated Caradoc in a maze. "I must get out of here!"
"That's th' word, war!" whispered Malone thickly. "They say Hingland's
got a tight blockade aroun' th' German ports, so th' German cruisers
bring their prizes here in th' Sargasso, load all the prize stores they
capture out o' Hinglish bottoms into submarines an' run it into Germany
_under_ th' blockade. See? That's w'y this mother ship is 'ere. She
fixes 'em up at this end for their run back."
Malone told all this in a hoarse breath.
"What do they do with their prisoners--keep them here?"
"No, ship 'em to German East Africa an' intern 'em. The _Prince
Eitel_ is due 'ere tomorrow to ship us."
So that was the explanation of all this mystery--War!
Madden fell silent with the sensation of a man who had lost his footing
on earth.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194