Stepping back, Don Winslow stared at his friend aghast.

“Not everything—not ALL the machinery, I hope, Red!” he groaned. “Man alive! The Scorpion’s weather mapping machine alone was a priceless invention. If they’ve blown that up—”

“They didn’t, Commander, so put your mind at rest!” interrupted the rich brogue of Michael Splendor from the doorway. “I hope you’ll forgive me for wheelin’ in on ye unexpected, gentlemen. What with the explosions and the pitchin’ of the ship in that tidal wave, 'tis no wonder ye didn’t hear me knock!”

Don Winslow turned to grip the crippled man’s big hand.

“We’ll forgive you, Mr. Splendor,” he smiled, “provided you tell us what’s been happening ashore since yesterday. By the looks of the gang on the beach, a little while ago, there was a lot of work going on—more than just laying a dynamite charge.”

“There was indeed!” nodded Splendor. “Captain Riggs’ lads have been workin’ the whole night tryin’ to salvage the machines of the Scorpion’s invention. They’ve got most of them aboard ship now, includin’ your precious weather map. What they blew up just now was little more than an empty shell. I came in especially to tell ye that, and to bring ye this bundle before the doctor comes in to bother ye.”

With a broad wink, the big man produced a large package from under the blanket which covered his crippled legs. Ripping off the paper wrapping, he disclosed a pair of officer’s uniforms.

“I had to guess at the sizes when I borrowed them, lads,” he chuckled, “but they should fit better than what ye’re wearin’ at present. Look under the after part of me wheel chair for another bundle of shirts, shoes, and whatnot. Ye see, I thought if the doctor saw ye both dressed and about the decks he’d not have the heart to order ye back to bed. I know how hard it is for an active man to be kept on his back when there’s work to do!”

Don Winslow took the package of clothing in wordless gratitude. Somehow, this middle aged cripple’s thoughtfulness touched him more deeply than he could express.

Lieutenant Pennington’s pleasure, however, was quite outspoken.

“You’re a lifesaver, Mr. Splendor!” he cried, seizing the bundle out of Don’s hands. “I’d have died of shame if I’d had to finish this voyage in a bathrobe and pajamas. I feel a hundred per cent better already. Just wait till I get these on....”

“What news of Miss Colby, and the seaman Jerry?” asked Don, as Red retreated behind the locker door. “That is, if it’s not too early for the doctor’s report.”

“They’re both on the mend,” replied Splendor, his blue eyes twinkling. “Especially the young lady. Her cabin door was open as I came by, and I heard her askin’ the medical officer when you would be well enough to take her for a stroll on deck! But that isn’t all the news I have to tell ye, Commander. Lieutenant Darnley brought back a bundle of papers from the chartroom of the underground base. Unless my old eyes deceive me, there’s one item among them the Scorpion would prefer we didn’t know about.”

Don, seated on the edge of his berth, leaned forward tensely, his eyes alight.

“Great work, Mr. Splendor!” he exclaimed. “Red Pennington and I went through those papers in a hurry without finding a thing of interest. What was it you picked out?”

“A mere bit of paper tucked away in a small notebook,” answered the cripple, fumbling in a pocket of his loose coat. “'Tis no wonder ye overlooked it; but with me nose for smellin’ out secret codes, I was suspicious of the thing immediately. Now, then—here it is! An innocent-looking message, is it not? But with the code key right there in the notebook, it becomes something else entirely.”

Red Pennington, now dressed in a fresh shirt and trousers which fitted him surprisingly well, edged up to the wheel chair. His eyes were fairly popping with curiosity and excitement.

“G-golly!” he said huskily. “To think we both had this note in our hands, and never suspected anything queer! Mind if I look over your shoulder, Don?”

“Read it aloud, Lieutenant!” urged Michael Splendor, glancing up with a nod.

Red Pennington bent closer.

“'Proceed with original contract,’” he read, “'for delivery October or not later than the first of the year. We will expect San Francisco order on schedule as this Empire contact is highly important. Our telegraph operator advises that many messages suggest Cho-San as the ideal sales name for our delightful produce which suggests China Seas and that catchy name brings orders.’”

“Say, Don!” the red-haired lieutenant commented. “If that’s in code, it’s a loo-loo! Sounds just like an ordinary business letter, or something!”

“You’re right, so it does!” chuckled Michael Splendor. “But there’s the catch. Ye note that the message is typed in five word lines. Very well, take this pencil and cross out all but the first word in the first line, the second word in the second line, and so on through the fifth. At the sixth line begin again with the first word. When ye’ve finished, read me what ye have left.”

With a low whistle of comprehension, Don Winslow took the pencil and, stepping over to the cabin’s desk, swiftly made the indicated changes. A few seconds later, he read off slowly the words which remained:

“'Proceed—October—first—San Francisco—Empire—contact—Operator—Cho-San—for—China Seas—orders.’”

“Well, I’ll be keelhauled!” blurted Red Pennington. “That’s a Scorpion message, all right. It sounds plain enough, too, except for the word 'Empire’ and 'Cho-San.’ Do they make any sense to you, Mr. Splendor?”

The man in the wheel chair did not reply. While Don had been decoding the message, the cripple had moved his rubber tired vehicle over to the porthole. He was now gazing out at the sunlit shore line, with an expression of grim thoughtfulness.

Following the man’s look, Don gave a start of amazement.

“Why, the shore seems to be moving!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t realize the ship was under way, did you, Red? We were both so interested in this code message. Where are we bound, Mr. Splendor?”

With a quick movement, the big man whirled his chair about, and faced the two young officers. His broad, lined face had the look of a person just waking from a heavy sleep.

“Excuse me, gentlemen!” he said apologetically. “I’m afraid me mind was far away when ye spoke. The name 'Cho-San’ recalled things I’d like to forget, if this broken body of mine would let me. But this is no time to talk of me own troubles! Ye asked where we were bound, did ye not?”

At Don’s silent nod, Michael Splendor’s mood underwent another swift change. His strikingly blue eyes lighted with their irresistible smile.

“We’re steerin’ for Port-au-Prince,” he stated. “'Tis meself persuaded Captain Riggs to put us ashore there for a few days, while we’re waitin’ fresh orders from Washington. I’ve a big, cool, country residence of me own near the city, where ye and Miss Colby will be more than welcome to stay and recover ye’re full health. Don’t refuse, now, and disappoint an old shut-in who has little to live for except his friends!”

“Don’t worry!” laughed Don Winslow, exchanging glances with Red. “We’ve heard plenty about your famous country house, Mr. Splendor, and we’re not refusing! It’s more like a palace than an ordinary dwelling, I understand.”

“That’s fine, Commander,” said Splendor, wheeling himself around toward the door. “And now, if ye’ll just hand me that code letter from the desk, I’ll be shovin’ off.”

Red Pennington stepped over to the desk, only to stand staring in blank surprise.

“The paper—are you sure you left it here, Don?” he asked, stooping to search the deck beneath. “I’d swear you didn’t pick it up again!”

With a puzzled exclamation, Don Winslow joined him in a hunt for the missing letter.

Every scrap of paper on the desk was examined; every inch of the desk’s interior was covered. Don’s own pockets were turned inside out. Frowning, Don turned to Michael Splendor, who had been watching them in silence.

“It seems to have vanished!” he declared helplessly. “That letter just isn’t here; and yet, there’s no place it could have gone....”

“Don’t be too sure, Commander!” said the cripple, calmly pointing to the half-open door. “It could have gone that way, with no more trouble than a sneak thief would take to lift it. There were several minutes, ye mind, when none of us was watching that side of the cabin. 'Tis me own fault, for I should have been on guard. Not even a Government vessel is safe from Scorpion spies!”