Motor Matt in Brazil; or, Under The Amazon Read online

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  MOTOR STORIES

  THRILLING ADVENTURE

  MOTOR FICTION

  NO. 18 JUNE 26, 1909

  FIVE CENTS

  MOTOR MATT IN BRAZIL

  _OR_ UNDER THE AMAZON

  _BY THE AUTHOR of MOTOR MATT_

  _"Look out behind you Glennie!" shouted Motor Matt as he hurried forward._]

  _STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK._

  MOTOR STORIES

  THRILLING ADVENTURE MOTOR FICTION

  _Issued Weekly. By subscription $2.50 per year. Entered according toAct of Congress in the year 1909, in the Office of the Librarian ofCongress, Washington, D. C., by_ STREET & SMITH, _79-89 Seventh Avenue,New York, N. Y._

  No. 18. NEW YORK, June 26, 1909. Price Five Cents.

  Motor Matt in Brazil;

  OR,

  UNDER THE AMAZON.

  By the author of "MOTOR MATT."

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I. THE CACHALOT. CHAPTER II. JOHN HENRY GLENNIE, U. S. N. CHAPTER III. THE MEETING IN THE HARBOR. CHAPTER IV. AH SIN'S CLUE. CHAPTER V. OFF FOR THE AMAZON. CHAPTER VI. VILLAINOUS WORK. CHAPTER VII. RUBBING ELBOWS WITH DEATH. CHAPTER VIII. A DIVE FOR SAFETY. CHAPTER IX. PUTTING TWO AND TWO TOGETHER. CHAPTER X. UNDER THE AMAZON. CHAPTER XI. HAND-TO-HAND. CHAPTER XII. BOARDED! CHAPTER XIII. A PRISONER--AND A SURPRISE. CHAPTER XIV. THE OLD SLOUCH HAT. CHAPTER XV. PARA. CHAPTER XVI. A DESPERATE RISK. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY.

  CHARACTERS THAT APPEAR IN THIS STORY.

  =Motor Matt=, a lad who is at home with every variety of motor, and whose never-failing nerve serves to carry him through difficulties that would daunt any ordinary young fellow. Because of his daring as a racer with bicycle, motor-cycle and automobile he is known as "Mile-a-minute Matt." Motor-boats, air ships and submarines come naturally in his line, and consequently he lives in an atmosphere of adventure in following up his "hobby."

  =Dick Ferral=, a young sea dog from Canada, with all a sailor's superstitions, but in spite of all that a royal chum, ready to stand by the friend of his choice through thick and thin.

  =Carl Pretzel=, a cheerful and rollicking German boy, stout of frame as well as of heart, who is led by a fortunate accident to link his fortunes with those of Motor Matt.

  =Ensign Glennie=, representing the U. S. Government on board the _Grampus_ during her long trip around South America.

  =Tolo=, a valiant though unscrupulous Japanese patriot anxious to die for his country.

  =Mr. Brigham=, our consul at Para, Brazil, who proves to be the right kind of man for the job.

  =Clackett=, } =Speake=, } the crew of the submarine marvel. =Gaines=, }

  CHAPTER I.

  THE CACHALOT.

  "Look at the chart, Dick. Unless I'm off in my reckoning, those bluethings in the distance, that look like clouds, are the mountains ofTrinidad."

  "Right-o, matey! The Gulf of Paria is to the south, and right aheadof us is the Boca Drago, or Dragon's Mouth, the entrance to the Gulf.What's our first port-of-call?"

  "Georgetown. That's where we're to pick up the midshipman."

  "But we're two days ahead of time, and he won't be expecting us. Whynot put in at Port-of-Spain for a little social call? I was there once,on the old _Billy Ruffin_, and it's a fine place for getting on yourgo-ashores and seeing the sights."

  "This is a business trip, old chap, and not a sightseeing excursion.Our schedule has been made out for us, and we've got to follow itthrough. It's a big responsibility we're under, and if anything shouldhappen to the _Grampus_, there'd----"

  At this moment a tremendous shock interrupted Motor Matt. The bigsteel hulk of the submarine stopped dead, reeled for an instant likea drunken man, and then rebounded sternward against the push of thepropeller. Accompanying the weird manoeuvre was a fierce thrashing ofthe waves outside.

  Sunk level with the surface of the sea, conning tower awash, the_Grampus_ had been proceeding at a good clip on her southward journey.Motor Matt and Dick Ferral were in the periscope room, Matt with hisattention divided between the periscope table, the steering wheel, andthe small compass, and Dick on his knees beside a locker on which werea number of admiralty charts.

  Dick was thrown sidewise by the shock, and Matt only saved himself afall by taking a convulsive grip on the spokes of the steering wheel.

  "Fore-rudder will not work, sir!" cried Speake through the tubecommunicating with the engine room.

  One admirable thing about the king of the motor boys was that he nevergot "rattled." Under any and all circumstances he kept his head.

  "Stop your motor, Gaines!" he cried instantly through another of thetubes, then, whirling to still another, he called: "Prepare to emptythe ballast, Clackett!"

  The ready "Aye, aye, sir!" that came through both tubes proved thatthose in motor room and tank room were on the alert.

  The hum of the engine died slowly, and muffled sounds from the tankroom showed that Clackett was calmly attending to his work.

  In time of accident no man could leave his post, for the safety of thesubmarine, and the lives of those within her, might depend upon aninstant compliance with orders. Iron-nerved men formed the crew of the_Grampus_, for each had been selected by Captain Nemo, Jr., with thatquality in mind.

  Meanwhile Motor Matt had been studying the top of the periscope tablecarefully.

  "So far as I can make out," said he, in a puzzled tone, "there isnothing above."

  "The Orinoco brings down a lot of drift, matey," put in Dick, "and wemay have struck a log floating between two waves. If our rudder hasbeen damaged----"

  He was interrupted by another blow, fully as severe as the first. Butthis stroke came from the side and not from forward, and hurled thesubmarine over so far that every loose article slammed to starboard,and it seemed as though the boat must surely turn turtle.

  "Start the turbines, Clackett!" roared Matt through the tank-room tube;"empty the ballast tanks!"

  "Sorry to report, Matt," came the instant response of Clackett, "thatthe turbines are disabled an' won't work."

  Matt was astounded.

  "Then empty the tanks by compressed air!" he cried. "Sharp's the word,Clackett!"

  The hiss of air, fighting with the water in the tanks, was heard. Atonce the boat began to ascend and presently the slap of waves againstthe outer shell proved that they were on the surface.

  "Take the wheel, Dick," called Matt, and leaped up the iron ladder intothe conning tower.

  The lunettes, or little windows in the tower, were frosted withspindrift, and Matt threw open the hatch and pushed head and shouldersover the top.

  "Great spark-plugs!" he cried; "a whale!"

  "A bull cachalot!" exclaimed Dick from below, staring through theperiscope.

  "Vat iss dot, Tick?"

  The voice of Carl Pretzel, none too steady, floated up to Matt from theperiscope room. Carl was not on duty and had probably come up to findout what was going on.

  "Why," went on Dick, excitedly, "a cachalot is one of the hardestfighters in the whole whale family. We probably ran into that oldblubber-head while he was taking his morning nap, and he's got his madup. By the figurehead of the Old Harry! See him spout! We're going tohave trouble with him, Matt! His head's like India-rubber, and he couldpoke it through the plates of the _Grampus_ and never hurt himself."

  Matt had got his head out of the hatch just in time to snatch a glanceat the flukes of a big
whale disappearing in the sea.

  He signaled half-speed ahead by the engine-room jingler. The elevationof the periscope ball gave Dick a much more extensive view of thesurface than it did Matt from the top of the conning tower. Thewhale had come to the top again, and, while Matt was able to see thegeyser-like column of water the creature threw up, Dick could take inthe cachalot's immense proportions.

  "He's lumpy all over," announced Dick, "and every lump is an oldharpoon mark. He's a veteran, mates, and he's coming right at us. He'llstave in the plates, Matt! Dodge him!"

  "Tell Speake and Clackett to put a Whitehead in the port torpedo-tube!"called Matt.

  Dick immediately repeated the order, and Carl clattered below to help.

  "They can't get the tube loaded, Matt," cried Dick, "before thecachalot will be on us."

  "We'll have to meet his first charge," answered Matt calmly; "therecan't be any dodging."

  There came a low _thump_ from forward, followed by a gurgling splash.From that Matt knew that the bow port had been closed and that thewater was being blown out of the tube by compressed air. Then a faintrattle told him the breech door was being opened preparatory to loadingthe torpedo.

  By then Matt was able to see the charging whale. He was a tremendousfellow, and he was making straight for the submarine with all the forcein his great body. The water flashed away from his shining sides, and along trail of foam unrolled behind his churning flukes.

  "I'll do the steering from here, Dick!" shouted Matt, laying hold ofthe patent device which enabled one to steer from the tower.

  Matt headed the boat so as to meet its strange antagonist bow on. Whaleand submarine came together with a terrific impact. For an instant thewhale seemed stunned, sheered off a little, and the sharp prow rakedhis side.

  The next instant the _Grampus_ was beyond the whale. Matt, lookingbehind, could see the huge cachalot leaping clear out of the water, andfalling into it again with a splash like some mountain dropping intothe sea.

  The whale was terribly wounded, and bleeding, but the wound seemed onlyto have increased his pugnacious disposition.

  "Watch the periscope, Dick!" roared Matt. "Can you see him? He's out ofsight from here."

  "He's sounded, mate," answered Dick, his tense voice proving the strainhis nerves were under. "I'm hoping he'll leave us now, and---- Sink me!There he is again! He's coming for us like an express train."

  A spouting of reddened water gave Matt the location, and he put the_Grampus_ about, so as to face the danger and bring the cachalot infront of the port torpedo tube.

  "Tell them to make ready in the torpedo room!" shouted Matt. "They mustfire the Whitehead the moment I give the word."

  Dick repeated the order. The torpedo was contrived so as to travel ata certain distance under water. If discharged at too great a distancefrom the whale it would sink to its normal depth, and so miss thecharging monster altogether. Matt, watching the cachalot with sharpeyes, awaited the right moment for letting the Whitehead go.

  The whale left a bloody track as it hurled itself nearer and nearer.

  "Fire!" shouted Matt suddenly.

  A gurgling swish, a spluttering cough, and a thud followed. The surfaceof the sea directly ahead of the submarine was full of ripples thatmarked the passing of the deadly infernal machine.

  "Full speed astern!" cried Matt.

  Dick repeated the order to Gaines. Barely was the motion of thepropeller reversed when whale and torpedo met. There was a dull roar,and the sea lifted high in a veritable flurry. The _Grampus_ slidbackward rapidly, rocking on the troubled waters. Then, the liftedwaves having descended, the whale was seen torn cruelly and lying onhis back. Already the triangular fins of sharks were in evidence,rushing from every direction upon the prey.

  Matt descended to the engine room and found Dick steering with one handand wiping the perspiration from his face with the other.

  "A tight squeak, matey!" Dick muttered. "We're out one torpedo, but yousaved the boat."

  Speake, meanwhile, had been taking the turbine to pieces. He nowappeared in the periscope room with a wooden sieve half full of smallfish.

  "Mullet for dinner, Matt!" he laughed. "A shoal of fish was bein'chased by the cachalot. The draught-holes of our turbines was open an'the fish run in. No wonder the turbines wouldn't work!"

  "Good enough," answered Matt laughing, "if you can call anything goodthat put our turbines out of commission at a time when we needed them.Have some of them for dinner, Speake." He turned to Dick. "Lay ourcourse for the Port-of-Spain, old chap," he added. "We'll put into theharbor and look the submarine over to see whether her bow has beendamaged any. I'll go below and have a look at the fore-rudder. Possiblywe can tinker that up temporarily. It would never do to pick up themidshipman with the _Grampus_ at all out of commission."

  "Aye, aye, old ship!" responded Dick heartily.

  They were to call at the Port-of-Spain, after all, and Dick Ferral wasmightily pleased with the prospect.