The Campaign

: The Master Of The World

So the undiscoverable commander had reappeared upon the territory of

the United States! He had never shown himself in Europe either on the

roads or in the seas. He had not crossed the Atlantic, which

apparently he could have traversed in three days. Did he then intend

to make only America the scene of his exploits? Ought we to conclude

from this that he was an American?



Let me insist upon this point. It s
emed clear that the submarine

might easily have crossed the vast sea which separates the New and

the Old World. Not only would its amazing speed have made its voyage

short, in comparison to that of the swiftest steamship, but also it

would have escaped all the storms that make the voyage dangerous.

Tempests did not exist for it. It had but to abandon the surface of

the waves, and it could find absolute calm a few score feet beneath.



But the inventor had not crossed the Atlantic, and if he were to be

captured now, it would probably be in Ohio, since Toledo is a city of

that state.



This time the fact of the machine's appearance had been kept secret,

between the police and the agent who had warned them, and whom I was

hurrying to meet. No journal -- and many would have paid high for the

chance -- was printing this news. We had decided that nothing should

be revealed until our effort was at an end. No indiscretion would be

committed by either my comrades or myself.



The man to whom I was sent with an order from Mr. Ward was named

Arthur Wells. He awaited us at Toledo. The city of Toledo stands at

the western end of Lake Erie. Our train sped during the night across

West Virginia and Ohio. There was no delay; and before noon the next

day the locomotive stopped in the Toledo depot.



John Hart, Nab Walker and I stepped out with traveling bags in our

hands, and revolvers in our pockets. Perhaps we should need weapons

for an attack, or even to defend ourselves. Scarcely had I stepped

from the train when I picked out the man who awaited us. He was

scanning the arriving passengers impatiently, evidently as eager and

full of haste as I.



I approached him. "Mr. Wells?" said I.



"Mr. Strock?" asked he.



"Yes."



"I am at your command," said Mr. Wells.



"Are we to stop any time in Toledo?" I asked.



"No; with your permission, Mr. Strock. A carriage with two good

horses is waiting outside the station; and we must leave at once to

reach our destination as soon as possible."



"We will go at once," I answered, signing to my two men to follow us.

"Is it far?"



"Twenty miles."



"And the place is called?"



"Black Rock Creek."



Having left our bags at a hotel, we started on our drive. Much to my

surprise I found there were provisions sufficient for several days

packed beneath the seat of the carriage. Mr. Wells told me that the

region around Black Rock Creek was among the wildest in the state.

There was nothing there to attract either farmers or fishermen. We

would find not an inn for our meals nor a room in which to sleep.

Fortunately, during the July heat there would be no hardship even if

we had to lie one or two nights under the stars.



More probably, however, if we were successful, the matter would not

occupy us many hours. Either the commander of the "Terror" would be

surprised before he had a chance to escape, or he would take to

flight and we must give up all hope of arresting him.



I found Arthur Wells to be a man of about forty, large and powerful.

I knew him by reputation to be one of the best of our local police

agents. Cool in danger and enterprising always, he had proven his

daring on more than one occasion at the peril of his life. He had

been in Toledo on a wholly different mission, when chance had thrown

him on the track of the "Terror."



We drove rapidly along the shore of Lake Erie, toward the southwest.

This inland sea of water is on the northern boundary of the United

States, lying between Canada on one side and the States of Ohio,

Pennsylvania and New York on the other. If I stop to mention the

geographical position of this lake, its depth, its extent, and the

waters nearest around, it is because the knowledge is necessary for

the understanding of the events which were about to happen.



The surface of Lake Erie covers about ten thousand square miles. It

is nearly six hundred feet above sea level. It is joined on the

northwest, by means of the Detroit River, with the still greater

lakes to the westward, and receives their waters. It has also rivers

of its own though of less importance, such as the Rocky, the

Cuyahoga, and the Black. The lake empties at its northeastern end

into Lake Ontario by means of Niagara River and its celebrated falls.



The greatest known depth of Lake Erie is over one hundred and thirty

feet. Hence it will be seen that the mass of its waters is

considerable. In short, this is a region of most magnificent lakes.

The land, though not situated far northward, is exposed to the full

sweep of the Arctic cold. The region to the northward is low, and the

winds of winter rush down with extreme violence. Hence Lake Erie is

sometimes frozen over from shore to shore.



The principal cities on the borders of this great lake are Buffalo at

the east, which belongs to New York State, and Toledo in Ohio, at the

west, with Cleveland and Sandusky, both Ohio cities, at the south.

Smaller towns and villages are numerous along the shore. The traffic

is naturally large, its annual value being estimated at considerably

over two million dollars.



Our carriage followed a rough and little used road along the borders

of the lake; and as we toiled along, Arthur Wells told me, what he

had learned.



Less than two days before, on the afternoon of July twenty-seventh

Wells had been riding on horseback toward the town of Herly. Five

miles outside the town, he was riding through a little wood, when he

saw, far up across the lake, a submarine which rose suddenly above

the waves. He stopped, tied his horse, and stole on foot to the edge

of the lake. There, from behind a tree he had seen with his own eyes

seen this submarine advance toward him, and stop at the mouth of

Black Rock Creek. Was it the famous machine for which the whole world

was seeking, which thus came directly to his feet?



When the submarine was close to the rocks, two men climbed out upon

its deck and stepped ashore. Was one of them this Master of the

World, who had not been seen since he was reported from Lake

Superior? Was this the mysterious "Terror" which had thus risen from

the depths of Lake Erie?



"I was alone," said Wells. "Alone on the edge of the Creek. If you

and your assistants, Mr. Strock had been there, we four against two,

we would have been able to reach these men and seize them before they

could have regained their boat and fled."



"Probably," I answered. "But were there no others on the boat with

them? Still, if we had seized the two, we could at least have learned

who they were."



"And above all," added Wells, "if one of them turned out to be the

captain of the 'Terror!'"



"I have only one fear, Wells; this submarine, whether it is the one

we seek or another, may have left the creek since your departure."



"We shall know about that in a few hours, now. Pray Heaven they are

still there! Then when night comes?"



"But," I asked, "did you remain watching in the wood until night?"



"No; I left after an hour's watching, and rode straight for the

telegraph station at Toledo. I reached there late at night and sent

immediate word to Washington."



"That was night before last. Did you return yesterday to Black Rock

Creek?"



"Yes."



"The submarine was still there?"



"In the same spot."



"And the two men?"



"The same two men. I judge that some accident had happened, and they

came to this lonely spot to repair it."



"Probably so," said I. "Some damage which made it impossible for them

to regain their usual hiding-place. If only they are still here!"



"I have reason to believe they will be, for quite a lot of stuff was

taken out of the boat, and laid about upon the shore; and as well as

I could discern from a distance they seemed to be working on board."



"Only the two men?"



"Only the two."



"But," protested I, "can two be sufficient to handle an apparatus of

such speed, and of such intricacy, as to be at once automobile, boat

and submarine?"



"I think not, Mr. Strock; but I only saw the same two. Several times

they came to the edge of the little wood where I was hidden, and

gathered sticks for a fire which they made upon the beach. The region

is so uninhabited and the creek so hidden from the lake that they ran

little danger of discovery. They seemed to know this."



"You would recognize them both again?"



"Perfectly. One was of middle size, vigorous, and quick of movement,

heavily bearded. The other was smaller, but stocky and strong.

Yesterday, as before, I left the wood about five o'clock and hurried

back to Toledo. There I found a telegram from Mr. Ward, notifying me

of your coming; and I awaited you at the station."



Summed up, then, the news amounted to this: For forty hours past a

submarine, presumably the one we sought, had been hidden in Black

Rock Creek, engaged in repairs. Probably these were absolutely

necessary, and we should find the boat still there. As to how the

"Terror" came to be in Lake Erie, Arthur Wells and I discussed that,

and agreed that it was a very probable place for her. The last time

she had been seen was on Lake Superior. From there to Lake Erie the

machine could have come by the roads of Michigan, but since no one

had remarked its passage and as both the police and the people were

specially aroused and active in that portion of the country, it

seemed more probable, that the "Terror" had come by water. There was

a clear route through the chain of the Great Lakes and their rivers,

by which in her character of a submarine she could easily proceed

undiscovered.



And now, if the "Terror" had already left the creek, or if she

escaped when we attempted to seize her, in what direction would she

turn? In any case, there was little chance o following her. There

were two torpedo-destroyers at the port of Buffalo, at the other

extremity of Lake Erie. By treaty between the United States and

Canada, there are no vessels of war whatever on the Great Lakes.

These might, however, have been little launches belonging to the

customs service. Before I left Washington Mr. Ward had informed me

of their presence; and a telegram to their commanders would, if there

were need, start them in pursuit of the "Terror." But despite their

splendid speed, how could they vie with her! And if she plunged

beneath the waters, they would be helpless. Moreover Arthur Wells

averred that in case of a battle, the advantage would not be with the

destroyers, despite their large crews, and many guns. Hence, if we

did not succeed this night, the campaign would end in failure.



Arthur Wells knew Black Rock Creek thoroughly, having hunted there

more than once. It was bordered in most places with sharp rocks

against which the waters of the lake beat heavily. Its channel was

some thirty feet deep, so that the "Terror" could take shelter either

upon the surface or under water. In two or three places the steep

banks gave way to sand beaches which led to little gorges reaching up

toward the woods, two or three hundred feet.



It was seven in the evening when our carriage reached these woods.

There was still daylight enough for us to see easily, even in the

shade of the trees. To have crossed openly to the edge of the creek

would have exposed us to the view of the men of the "Terror," if she

were still there, and thus give her warning to escape.



"Had we better stop here?" I asked Wells, as our rig drew up to the

edge of the woods.



"No, Mr. Strock," said he. "We had better leave the carriage deeper

in the woods, where there will be no chance whatever of our being

seen."



"Can the carriage drive under these trees?"



"It can," declared Wells. "I have already explored these woods

thoroughly. Five or six hundred feet from here, there is a little

clearing, where we will be completely hidden, and where our horses

may find pasture. Then, as soon as it is dark, we will go down to the

beach, at the edge of the rocks which shut in the mouth of the creek.

Thus if the 'Terror' is still there, we shall stand between her and

escape."



Eager as we all were for action, it was evidently best to do as Wells

suggested and wait for night. The intervening time could well be

occupied as he said. Leading the horses by the bridle, while they

dragged the empty carriage, we proceeded through the heavy woods. The

tall pines, the stalwart oaks, the cypress scattered here and there,

made the evening darker overhead. Beneath our feet spread a carpet of

scattered herbs, pine needles and dead leaves. Such was the thickness

of the upper foliage that the last rays of the setting sun could no

longer penetrate here. We had to feel our way; and it was not without

some knocks that the carriage reached the clearing ten minutes later.



This clearing, surrounded by great trees, formed a sort of oval,

covered with rich grass. Here it was still daylight, and the darkness

would scarcely deepen for over an hour. There was thus time to

arrange an encampment and to rest awhile after our hard trip over the

rough and rocky roads.



Of course, we were intensely eager to approach the Creek and see if

the "Terror" was still there. But prudence restrained us. A little

patience, and the night-would enable us to reach a commanding

position unsuspected. Wells urged this strongly; and despite my

eagerness, I felt that he was right.



The horses were unharnessed, and left to browse under the care of the

coachman who had driven us. The provisions were unpacked, and John

Hart and Nab Walker spread out a meal on the grass at the foot of a

superb cypress which recalled to me the forest odors of Morganton and

Pleasant Garden. We were hungry and thirsty; and food and drink were

not lacking. Then our pipes were lighted to calm the anxious moments

of waiting that remained.



Silence reigned within the wood. The last song of the birds had

ceased. With the coming of night the breeze fell little by little,

and the leaves scarcely quivered even at the tops of the highest

branches. The sky darkened rapidly after sundown and twilight

deepened into obscurity.



I looked at my watch, it was half-past eight. "It is time, Wells."



"When you will, Mr. Strock."



"Then let us start."



We cautioned the coachman not to let the horses stray beyond the

clearing. Then we started. Wells went in advance, I followed him, and

John Hart and Nab Walker came behind. In the darkness, we three would

have been helpless without the guidance of Wells. Soon we reached the

farther border of the woods; and before us stretched the banks of

Black Rock Creek.



All was silent; all seemed deserted. We could advance without risk.

If the "Terror" was there, she had cast anchor behind the rocks. But

was she there? That was the momentous question! As we approached the

denouement of this exciting affair, my heart was in my throat.



Wells motioned to us to advance. The sand of the shore crunched

beneath our steps. The two hundred feet between us and the mouth of

the Creek were crossed softly, and a few minutes sufficed to bring us

to the rocks at the edge of the lake.



There was nothing! Nothing!



The spot where Wells had left the "Terror" twenty-four hours before

was empty. The "Master of the World" was no longer at Black Rock

Creek.



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