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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19351-h.zip b/19351-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..498beb2 --- /dev/null +++ b/19351-h.zip diff --git a/19351-h/19351-h.htm b/19351-h/19351-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b14c38e --- /dev/null +++ b/19351-h/19351-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5151 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Curlie Carson Listens In, by Roy J. Snell</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + h1 {font-size:200%;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; + position: absolute; right: 2%; border:1px solid white; + padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; + color: #444; background-color: #EEE;} + .blockquot {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + hr.full {width:100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.major {width:75%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.minor {width:30%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + pre {font-size: 75%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Curlie Carson Listens In, by Roy J. Snell</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Curlie Carson Listens In</p> +<p>Author: Roy J. Snell</p> +<p>Release Date: September 22, 2006 [eBook #19351]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CURLIE CARSON LISTENS IN***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net/)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<table width='350' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='' border='1'> + <tr><td align='center'> + <p style='font-size: 200%; margin-bottom: -0.5em; text-align: center;'>Curlie Carson</p> + <p style='font-size: 200%; margin-bottom: 3em; text-align: center;'>Listens In</p> + <p style='font-size: 100%; margin-bottom: -0.5em; text-align: center;'><i>By</i></p> + <p style='font-size: 120%; margin-bottom: 3em; text-align: center;'>ROY J. SNELL</p> + <img style='margin-bottom:3em;' src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='emblem' /> + <p style='font-size: 100%; margin-bottom: -0.5em; text-align: center;'>The Reilly & Lee Co.</p> + <p style='font-size: 100%; margin-bottom: 2em; text-align: center;'>Chicago</p> + </td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<p style='text-align: center;'><i>Printed in the United States of America</i><br /><br /> +Copyright, 1922<br /> +by<br /> +The Reilly & Lee Co.</p> +<hr style="width:10%" /> +<p style='text-align: center;'><i>All Rights Reserved</i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>Curlie Carson Listens In</i><br /> +</p> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<h2><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2> +<div class="smcap"> +<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<col style="width:20%;" /> +<col style="width:70%;" /> +<col style="width:10%;" /> +<tr><td align="right">I </td><td align="left">A STRANGE MESSAGE</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">II </td><td align="left">SOMETHING BIG</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">20</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">III </td><td align="left">A WHISPER IN THE NIGHT</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IV </td><td align="left">A GAME FOR TWO</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">V </td><td align="left">IN THE DARK</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VI </td><td align="left">A REAL DISCOVERY</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">64</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VII </td><td align="left">CURLIE RECEIVES A SHOCK</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">VIII </td><td align="left">CURLIE MEETS A MILLIONAIRE</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">IX </td><td align="left">A MYSTERIOUS MAP</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">X </td><td align="left">THE FIRST LAP OF A LONG JOURNEY</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XI </td><td align="left">"MANY BARBARIANS AND MUCH GOLD"</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XII </td><td align="left">OUT TO SEA IN A COCKLESHELL</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIII </td><td align="left">A GHOST WALKS</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIV </td><td align="left">THE COMING STORM</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XV </td><td align="left">S. O. S.</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVI </td><td align="left">A CONFESSION</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">160</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVII </td><td align="left">A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">170</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XVIII </td><td align="left">THE STORMY PETREL GETS AN ANSWER</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">177</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XIX </td><td align="left">THE MAP'S SECRET</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XX </td><td align="left">A SEA ABOVE A SEA</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXI </td><td align="left">THE BOATS ARE GONE</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">203</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXII </td><td align="left">THE WRECK OF THE <i>KITTLEWAKE</i></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">211</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIII </td><td align="left">THE MIRACLE</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">219</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXIV </td><td align="left">THE STORY OF THE MAP</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">227</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right">XXV </td><td align="left">OFF ON ANOTHER WILD CHASE</td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">234</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class='major' /> + +<h1>Curlie Carson Listens In</h1> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2><h3>A STRANGE MESSAGE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Behind locked and barred doors, surrounded by numberless +mysterious-looking instruments, sat Curlie Carson. To the right of him +was a narrow window. Through that window, a dizzy depth below, lay the +city. Its square, flat roofs formed a mammoth checker-board. Between the +squares criss-crossed the narrow black streets. Like a white chalk-line, +drawn by a careless child, the river wound its crooked way across this +checker-board.</p> + +<p>To the left of him was a second narrow window. Through this he caught +the dark gleam of the broad waters of Lake Michigan. Here and there +across the surface twinkled the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> lamps of a vessel, or flashed the +warning beacon of a lighthouse.</p> + +<p>A boy in his late teens was Curlie. Slender, dark, with coal-black eyes, +with curls of the same hue clinging tightly to his well-shaped head, he +had the strong profile and the smooth tapering fingers that might belong +to an artist, a pickpocket or a detective.</p> + +<p>An artist Curlie was, an artist in his line—radio. Although still a +boy, he was already an operator of the "commercial, extra first-class" +type. So far as license and title were concerned, he could go no higher. +A pickpocket he was not, but a detective he might be thought to be; a +strange type of detective, however, a detective of the air; the kind +that sits in a small room hundreds of feet in air and listens; listens +to the schemes, the plots, the counterplots of men and to the wild +babble of fools. His task was that of aiding in the capture of knaves +and the silencing of foolish folks who used the newly-discovered +radiophone as their mouthpiece.</p> + +<p>"Foolish people," Major Whittaker, Curlie's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> superior, who had called +him to the service, had said, "do quite as much damage to the radio +service as crooks. Fools and knaves must alike be punished and your task +will be to help catch them."</p> + +<p>Wonderful ears had Curlie Carson, perhaps the most wonderful ears in the +world. In catching the fine shadings of diminishing sounds which came to +him through the radio compass, there was not a man who could excel him.</p> + +<p>So Curlie sat there surrounded by wire-wrapped frames, coils, keys, +buttons, switches, motors, dry-cells, storage batteries and all the odds +and ends which made up the equipment of the most perfect listening-in +station in the world.</p> + +<p>As he sat there with Joe Marion, his pal, by his side, his brow was +wrinkled in thought. He was reviewing the events of the previous night. +At 1:00 a.m., the witching hour when the crooked ones, the mean ones, +come creeping forth like ghosts to carry on doubtful conversations by +radio, a strange thing had happened.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> A message had gone crashing out +through space. Wave lengths 1200 meters long sped it on its way. There +was power enough behind it to carry it from pole to pole, but all it had +said was:</p> + +<p>"A slight breeze from the west."</p> + +<p>Three times the message had been repeated, then had come silence. There +had been no answer though Curlie had listened long for it on 1200 meter +wave lengths and five other lengths as well.</p> + +<p>Sudden as had come the message, fleet as had been its passing, it had +not been too fleet for Curlie. He had compassed its direction; measured +its distance. On a map of the city which lay before him he had made a +pencil cross and said:</p> + +<p>"It came from there." And he was right for, strange as it may seem, an +expert such as Curlie can sit in a hidden tower room such as his was and +detect the exact location of a station whose message has set his ear +drums aquiver.</p> + +<p>The location had puzzled him. There was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> a station in the city +licensed to send 1200 meter wave lengths. The spot he had marked was the +location of the city's most magnificent apartment hotel. The hotel +possessed a radiophone set. Its antenn[ae], hung high upon the building's +roof, were capable of carrying that 1200 meter message with all that +power behind it, but the radio equipment of the hotel had no such power.</p> + +<p>"Something crooked about that," he had mumbled to himself.</p> + +<p>His first impulse had been to call the police. He did not act upon it. +They might blunder. The thing might get out. This law-breaker might +escape. Not five people in all the world knew of Curlie's detecting +station. He would work out this problem alone.</p> + +<p>Now, as he sat thinking of it, he decided to confide this new secret to +his pal, Joe Marion.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he told himself, "I'll tell him about it at chow."</p> + +<p>At this moment his mind was recalled to other matters. New trouble was +brewing.</p> + +<p>"A slight breeze from the west," his mind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> went over the message +automatically, "and the wind was due east. Don't mean much as it stands, +but I suspect means a lot more than it seems to."</p> + +<p>Just above Curlie's head there hung a receiver. To the right and left of +him were two loud-speakers. Before him ranged three others. Each one of +these was tuned to a certain wave length, 200, 350, 500, 600, 1200 +meters. Each was modulated down until sounds came to Curlie's delicately +tuned ear drums as little more than whispers. A concert was being +broadcast on 350. The booming tones of a baritone had been coming in as +softly and sweetly as a mother's lullaby. But now Curlie's ear detected +interference.</p> + +<p>Instantly he was all alert. The receiver was clamped down over his ears, +a half dozen switches were sent, snap, snap, snap. There followed a dead +silence. Then in a shrill boyish voice, together with the baritone's +renewal of his song, there came:</p> + +<p>"I want the world to know that I am a wireless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> operator, op-er-a-a-tor. +Hoop-la! Tra-la!"</p> + +<p>Curlie smiled in spite of his vexation. He acted quickly and with +precision. His slender fingers guided a coil-wound frame from right to +left. Backward and forward it glided, and as it moved the boyish +"Hoop-la" rose and fell. Almost instantly it came to a standstill.</p> + +<p>"There! That's it!" he breathed.</p> + +<p>Then to Joe Marion, "It's a shame about those kids. They won't learn to +play the game square. Don't know the rules and don't care. Think we +can't catch 'em, I guess."</p> + +<p>His hand went out for a telephone.</p> + +<p>"Superior 2231," he purred.</p> + +<p>"That you, 2231? Just a moment."</p> + +<p>He touched a key here, another there. He twisted a knob there, then: +"That you, Mulligan?" he half whispered. "Good! There's a kid on your +beat got a wireless running wild. Yes. Broke in on the concert. Don't be +hard on him. No license? Yes, guess that's right. Take away his sending +set. Give him another chance? Let him listen in. What's that? Location?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> +Clarendon Street, near Orton Place; about second door, I'd say. That's +all right. Thanks, yourself."</p> + +<p>Dropping the receiver on its hook he tossed off his headpiece, snapped +at five buttons, then settled back in his chair.</p> + +<p>"These kids'll be the death of me yet," he grumbled. "Always breaking +in, not meaning any harm but doing harm all the same. I don't feel so +very sore about them though. It's the fellows that go in for long wave +lengths and high power, that break in on 500, 1200 and 1800, that do the +real damage. Had a queer case last night. Looks crooked, too." He was +silent for a moment then he said reflectively:</p> + +<p>"Guess that's about all till midnight. It's after midnight that the +queer birds come creeping out. I'm going to tell you about that one last +night, over the ham sandwich, dill pickle and coffee. No use to try +now—we'd sure get broken in on."</p> + +<p>Joe Marion, who had been taken on as an understudy by Curlie, was at the +present time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> working without pay. At times when trouble developed on +two different wave lengths at once, he took a hand and helped out. For +the most part he merely looked, listened and learned.</p> + +<p>His pal he held in the greatest admiration. And who would not? Had he +not, when this great big new thing, the radiophone, came leaping right +into the world from nowhere, been able to take a hand from the very +beginning and become at once a valuable servant of his beloved country? +Had he not at times detected meddlers who were endangering the lives of +men upon the high seas? Had he not at one time received the highest of +commendations from the great chief of this secret service of the air?</p> + +<p>To Joe there was something weirdly fascinating about the whole business. +Here they were, two boys in the tower of the highest building in a great +city. Five people knew of their presence. These five were high up in the +radio secret service. No message sent out by them could ever be traced +back to its source. They did not use the air. That would be dangerous,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> +easily traced. They did not use the telephone alone. That, too, would be +dangerous. But when a radiophone had been connected to the telephone +wire and tuned to a certain wave length, then they talked and not even +the person they talked with would ever know whence came the message. +This was a necessary precaution for, from this very tower, dangerous +bands of criminals, gangs of smugglers, and all other types of +law-breakers would ultimately be brought to justice. And if these but +knew of the presence of this boy in his tower room, some dark night that +tower would be rocked by an exploding bomb and the boy in his room would +be shaken to earth like a young mud-wasp in his nest.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," said Curlie, as he rose to answer a tap on the door, "I +believe that affair last night was some big thing; but what it was I +can't even guess."</p> + +<p>He opened the door to let in Coles Masters, his relief, then motioning +to Joe he took his cap and left the room. Down the winding stairs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> which +led to the elevator several stories lower down they made their way in +silence, at last to enter a cage and be silently dropped to the ground +hundreds of feet below.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2><h3>SOMETHING BIG</h3> +</div> + +<p>"You see," Curlie began as he crossed his slim legs beside a small table +in an all-night lunch room, buried somewhere in the deep recesses of +this same skyscraper, "that fellow sent the message about the easterly +breeze that blew west and I located the station at that hotel. This +morning I went over to see how the place looked. It's a wonderful hotel, +that one; palm garden in the middle of it, marble columns, fountain, +painted sheet iron ceiling that'd make you dizzy to look at, and the +finest dressed people you ever saw walking around everywhere.</p> + +<p>"Well, I found my way to the sending room of the radiophone and right +away the operator wanted to throw me out; said I was a fresh kid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span> and +all that. But when I showed him my papers, he calmed down a lot and +showed me everything he had.</p> + +<p>"I saw right away it wasn't his equipment that had sent that +message—that'd be like sending a Big Bertha bomb into Paris with a +twenty-two caliber rifle. He just naturally didn't have the power, +that's all. So I didn't tell him anything about it; just walked out and +went around back to where I could see the way his wires ran from the +sending room to the antenna.</p> + +<p>"I hadn't any more than got there and had one look-up when along strolls +a man who wants to know what I'm looking at. I saw right away that he +wasn't a hotel employee for he didn't wear either a bandmaster's uniform +nor a cutaway coat, so I just smiled and said:</p> + +<p>"Got a girl friend up there on the sixteenth floor. She's leaving this +morning and arranged to drop her trunk down to me so's not to have to +tip the porter.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I hadn't more than said that than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> a girl did pop her head +out of a sixteenth floor window and stare straight down at me.</p> + +<p>"The fellow actually dodged. Guess he thought the trunk was due any +minute.</p> + +<p>"Funny part of it was the girl actually seemed interested in me, just as +if she had met me somewhere before. Of course she was too high up for me +to tell what she was like, but it made me mighty curious. I counted the +windows to right and left so I could find that room if I wanted to. The +window was only the third to the right from where the lead wire to the +antenna went up.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, that fellow—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Carson?" a voice interrupted Curlie. "Anyone here by the name of +Carson?" It came from the desk-clerk of the eating place.</p> + +<p>"That's me," exclaimed Curlie, jumping up.</p> + +<p>"Telephone."</p> + +<p>"All right. Be back in a minute, Joe." Curlie was away to answer the +call.</p> + +<p>"'Lo. That you, Curlie?" came through the receiver. "This is Coles +Masters. Got a bad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> case—extra bad. Can't understand it. Fellow's +sending 600 meter waves, with enough power to cross the Atlantic."</p> + +<p>"Six hundred!" exclaimed Curlie in a tense whisper. "Why, that's what +they use for S.O.S. at sea! It's criminal. Endangers every ship in +distress. Five years in prison for it. Get him, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"Can't. That's the trouble. Every time I think I've got him spotted he +seems to move."</p> + +<p>"To move!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"That's queer! I'll be up right away."</p> + +<p>"Come on," exclaimed Curlie, grabbing his hat and dragging Joe to his +feet. "It's a big one. Moves, he says. Sends 600; big power. Bet it's +that same hotel fellow. Gee whiz! Supposing it turned out to be that +sixteenth story girl and she caught me spying on her. I tell you it's +something big!"</p> + +<p>Impatient at the slowness of the up-shooting elevator, Curlie at last +leaped out before the iron door at the top was half open, then two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> +steps at a time sprang up a flight of stairs. Out of breath, he arrived +at the final landing, sprang through the door to the secret tower room, +then seizing his headpiece, sank into a chair.</p> + +<p>By a single move of the hand, Coles Masters indicated the radio-compass +he had been listening in on.</p> + +<p>"That's where he was, last time he spoke," he grumbled, "but no telling +where he'll be next. He's been dodging all over that stretch of +country."</p> + +<p>Curlie's fingers moved rapidly. He adjusted the coil of a radio-compass +here, another there and still another here. He twisted the knob of each +to the 600 mark, then, twisting the tuning knobs, lined them all up to +receive on the same wave length. The winding of each was set at a +slightly different angle from any other.</p> + +<p>"That about covers him," he mumbled. "Get the distance?"</p> + +<p>"Near as I could make out," said Coles Masters, "it was from ten to +fifteen miles. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> moves toward us, then away at times, just as he does +to right and left."</p> + +<p>"Hm," sighed Curlie, resting his chin on his hands. "That's a new dodge, +this moving business. Complicates things, that does."</p> + +<p>For a time he sat in a brown study. At last he spoke again, this time +quite as much to himself as to the other:</p> + +<p>"Folks don't move unless they have a way to move. That fellow has some +means of locomotion. Anyway," he sighed, "it's not our friend of the big +hotel unless—unless he or she or whoever it is has taken to locomotion, +and that's not likely. Not the same side of the city. Out near the +forest preserve."</p> + +<p>"Yes, or a little beyond," said Coles.</p> + +<p>"What do you think," asked Curlie suddenly, "has he got an automobile or +an airplane?"</p> + +<p>"Can't tell," said Coles thoughtfully. "You can't really judge distances +in air accurately. There are powerful equipments which might be mounted +on either automobiles or airplanes."</p> + +<p>"The thing that puzzled me, though, was his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> line of chatter. All about +some 'map, old French,' and a lot of stuff like that. I—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he broke off. A grinding sound had come from one of the loud +speakers. There followed in a clear, strong voice:</p> + +<p>"Map O.K. Old French is amazing. Good for a million."</p> + +<p>Curlie's fingers were busy once more as a tense look drew his forehead +into a scowl.</p> + +<p>"About fifteen miles," he whispered.</p> + +<p>Then the voice resumed:</p> + +<p>"Time up the bird. When?"</p> + +<p>A tense silence ensued. Then, faint, as if from far away, yet very +distinctly there came the single word:</p> + +<p>"Wednesday." This was followed by three letters distinctly pronounced: +"L.C.W."</p> + +<p>A second later came the strong voice in answer: "A.C.S."</p> + +<p>"That," said Curlie as he settled back in his chair, "in my estimation +ends the night's entertainment. But the nerve of the fellow!" he +exploded. "Sending that kind of rot on six<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> hundred. Why, at this very +moment some disabled ship might be struggling in a storm on the Great +Lakes or even on the Atlantic, and this jumble of words would muddle up +their message so its meaning would be lost and the ship with it. The +worst I could wish for such a fellow is that he be dropped into the sea +with some means of keeping afloat but with neither food nor drink and a +ship nowhere in sight."</p> + +<p>If Curlie had known how exactly this wish was to be granted in the days +that were to come, he might have experienced some strange sensations.</p> + +<p>He straightened up and placed a dot on the map before him.</p> + +<p>"That's where he was. I'll motor out in the morning and have a look at +things. May discover some clew."</p> + +<p>Curlie was a bright American boy of the very best type. Like most +American boys who do not have riches thrust upon them, when he wanted a +thing he made it or made a way to get it. Three years previous he had +wanted an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> automobile—wanted it awfully. And his total capital had been +$49.63. He had been wanting that car for some time when an express train +hit a powerful roadster on a crossing near his home.</p> + +<p>Having flocked in with the throng to view the twisted remains of the +car, he had been struck with an idea. This idea he had put into action. +The railroad had settled with the owner for the car. They had the wreck +of it on their hands. Curlie bought it for twenty-five dollars.</p> + +<p>To his great delight he had found the powerful motor practically +uninjured. The driving gear too, with the exception of one cog wheel, +was in workable order. The remainder of the car he sold to a junk dealer +for five dollars. It was twisted and broken beyond redemption.</p> + +<p>He had next searched about for a discarded chassis on which to mount his +gears and motor. This search rewarded, he had proceeded to assemble his +car. And one fine day he sailed out upon the street with the "Humming +Bird," as he had named her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span></p> + +<p>"Better call her 'Gravel Car,'" Joe had said when he saw that she had no +body at all and that he must ride with his feet thrust straight out +before him in a homemade seat bolted to a buckboard-like platform.</p> + +<p>But when, on a level stretch of road, Curlie had "let her out," Joe had +at once acquired an immense respect for the Humming Bird. "For," he said +later, "she can hum and she can go like a streak of light, and that's +about all any humming bird can do."</p> + +<p>No further messages of importance having drifted in to him from the +outer air, Curlie, an hour before dinner, made his way down to the +street and, having warmed up the Humming Bird's motor, muttered as he +sprang into the seat: "I'll just run out there and see what I see."</p> + +<p>A half hour later, just as the first gray streak of dawn was appearing, +he curved off onto a gravel road. Here he threw his car over to one side +and, switching on a flashlight, steered with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> one hand while he bent +over the side to examine the left-hand track.</p> + +<p>There had been a light rain at ten that night. Since that time a heavy +car with diamond-tread tires had passed along the road, leaving its +tracks in certain soft, sandy spots.</p> + +<p>"Maybe that's him," Curlie murmured.</p> + +<p>A little farther on, stopping his machine, he got out and walked along +the road. Examining the surface closely, he walked on for five rods, +then wheeled about and made his way back to the car.</p> + +<p>"He was over this road three times last night. That looks like a warm +scent. Can't tell, though. My friend might not have been in a car at +all; might have been in a plane.</p> + +<p>"We'll have a look at the very spot." He twirled the wheel and was away.</p> + +<p>A half mile farther down the road, he paused to look at a map. "Not +quite here," he murmured. "About a quarter mile farther."</p> + +<p>The car crept over another quarter of a mile. When he again came to a +halt he found himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> on a stretch of paved road. "This is the spot +from which the last message was sent. Tough luck!" he muttered. "Can't +tell a thing here."</p> + +<p>Glancing to his right, he sat up with a start. He had suddenly become +aware of the fact that he was just before the gate of the estate of J. +Anson Ardmore, reputed to be the richest man of the city.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" Curlie grunted. "Car must have stood about here when that last +message was sent. Maybe it went up that lane. Maybe it didn't, too. J. +Anson's got a son, about my age I guess. Vincent they call him. He might +be up to something. There's a girl, too, sixteen or so. Can't tell what +these rich folks will do."</p> + +<p>He stepped down the rich man's private drive, but here the surface of +crushed stone was so perfectly kept that no telltale mark was to be +seen.</p> + +<p>He did not venture far, as he had no relish for being caught trespassing +on such an estate without some good explanation for his conduct. Just at +that moment he had no desire to explain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span></p> + +<p>As he turned to go back, he caught the thud-thud of hoof beats along the +private drive.</p> + +<p>Fortunately the abundant shrubbery hid him from view. Hardly had he +reached the machine and assumed the attitude of one hunting trouble in +his engine when a girl rounded a corner at full gallop.</p> + +<p>Dressed in full riding costume and mounted on a blooded horse, she swung +along as graceful as a lark. As she came into the public highway she +flashed Curlie a look and a smile. Then she was gone.</p> + +<p>Curlie liked the smile even if it did come from one of the "four +hundred."</p> + +<p>"Gee! Old Humming Bird," he exclaimed as he patted his car, "did she +mean that smile for you or for me? So there might be a girl in the case, +same as there seems to be in that one over at the hotel? Girl in most +every case. What if she sent those messages and I found her out? That +would sure be tough.</p> + +<p>"But business is business!" He set his mouth grimly. "You can't fool +with old Uncle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> Sam, not when you're endangering the lives of some of +his bravest sons at sea."</p> + +<p>He threw in the clutch and drove slowly along the road. Twice he paused +to examine the tracks made the night before. Each time he discovered +marks of the diamond tread.</p> + +<p>"That radiophone was mounted on a car," he decided; "I'll stake my life +on that. Now if he keeps it up, how am I to catch him?"</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2><h3>A WHISPER IN THE NIGHT</h3> +</div> + +<p>The next night found Curlie in the secret tower room alone. Joe Marion +was away helping to run down a case of "malicious interference."</p> + +<p>It was curious business, this work of the radio secret service. Though +he had been at it for months, Curlie had never quite got used to it. A +detective he was in the truest sense of the word, yet how different from +the kind one reads about in books.</p> + +<p>He laughed as he thought of it now. Then as his tapering fingers +adjusted a screw, his brow became suddenly wrinkled in thought. He was +troubled by the two cases which had lately developed: the one at the +hotel and that other, the station that moved. How was he to locate that +powerful secret station in the hotel? How<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> was he to discover the owner +of that mysterious moving radio? He could not answer these questions. +And yet somehow they must be answered. He knew that.</p> + +<p>The operator in the hotel was sending on 1200 meter wave lengths. State +messages were constantly being sent across the Atlantic on 1200; +messages of the greatest importance. There was a conference of nations +at that moment going on in Europe. America's representative must be kept +in constant touch with the government officials at Washington. If this +person at the hotel persisted in sending messages on 1200 meter wave +lengths an important message might at any moment be blurred or lost.</p> + +<p>Not less important was the breaking in of this moving operator on 600. +This was the wave length used by ships and by harbor stations. Great +steamships sometimes waited for hours to get a message ashore on 600. If +this person were to be allowed to break in upon them they might wait +hours longer. Thousands of dollars would be lost. And then, as we have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> +said before, the message of some ship in distress might be lost because +of this person's interference.</p> + +<p>"When, oh, when," sighed Curlie, "will people become used to this new +thing, the radiophone? When will they learn that it is a great, new +servant of mankind and not a toy? When will they take time to instruct +themselves regarding the rights of others? When will they develop a +conscience which will compel them to consider those rights?"</p> + +<p>The answer which came to his mind was, "Perhaps never. But little by +little they will learn some things. It is my duty not alone to detect +but to teach."</p> + +<p>He shifted uneasily in his chair, then held his ear close to the loud +speaker tuned to 200. A message came floating in to him across the air, +a mysterious whispered message.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Curlie," it said. "You don't know me, but you have seen me—"</p> + +<p>Automatically Curlie's fingers moved the radio-compass backward and +forward while his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> mind gauged the distance. His right hand scrawled +some figures on a pad, and all the time his ears were strained to catch +the whisper.</p> + +<p>"I have seen you," it went on, "and I like your looks. That's why I'm +talking now."</p> + +<p>For a second the whisper ceased. There was something awe-inspiring about +that whisper. As he sat in his secret chamber away up there against the +sky, Curlie felt as if some spirit-being was floating about out there in +the sky on a fleecy cloud and pausing now and then to whisper to him.</p> + +<p>"I saw you," the whisper repeated. "You are in very grave danger. He is +a bold and treacherous man. It's big, Curlie, <i>big</i>!" The whisper rose +shrilly. "But you must be careful. You must not let him know the place +where you listen in. I don't know where it is. But I do know you listen +in. Be careful—careful—careful, c-a-r-e-f-u-l-" The whisper trailed +off into space, to be lost in thin air.</p> + +<p>Wiping the beads of perspiration from his face, Curlie sat up. "Well, +now," he whispered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> softly to himself, "what do you know about that?</p> + +<p>"One thing I do know," he told himself. "I'd swear it was a girl's +whisper, though how you can tell a girl's whisper is more than I know. +Question is: Which one is it—hotel station or the one that moves?"</p> + +<p>For a moment his brow wrinkled in thought. Then with an exclamation of +disgust he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"That's easy! I've got their location!"</p> + +<p>He figured for a few seconds, then put a pencil point on a certain spot +on his map.</p> + +<p>"There!" he muttered. "It's the hotel, the exact spot."</p> + +<p>Suddenly he started. There came the rattle of a key in the door.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he exclaimed as Coles Masters shoved the door open, "it's you. I'm +glad you're here. Got something I want to look into. Want to bad. Mind +if I take an extra hour?"</p> + +<p>"Nope."</p> + +<p>"All right. See you later." With a bound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> he was out of the door and +down the stairs.</p> + +<p>"That boy," muttered Coles Masters, with a grin, "will either die young +or become famous. Only Providence knows which it will be."</p> + +<p>Curlie did not leave the elevator at the first floor. Dropping down to +the sub-basement, he wound his way in and out through a labyrinth of +dimly lighted halls, at last to climb a stair to the first basement. +Then, having passed into his accustomed eating place, he paused long +enough to purchase a Swiss cheese sandwich, after which, with cap pulled +well down over his eyes, he made his way up a second flight of stairs +into the outer air.</p> + +<p>He shivered as he emerged into the open street. Whether this chill came +from the damp cool of the night or from nervous excitement, he could not +tell. The memory of the whispered warning bore heavily upon his mind.</p> + +<p>Turning his face resolutely in the direction of the hotel, he walked +three blocks, then hailed a passing taxi. When the taxi dropped him, a +few minutes later, he was still four blocks from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> the point of his +destination. Covering this distance with rapid strides, he came to the +rear of the hotel. There, dodging past a line of waiting taxis, he came +at length to a dark corner where a stone bench made an angle with the +wall of a building directly behind the hotel.</p> + +<p>Crouching in this corner, he glanced rapidly from right to left to learn +whether or not his arrival had been detected. Satisfied that for the +moment he was safe, he cast a glance upward to where the aerials of the +radiophone glistened in the moonlight. From that point he allowed his +gaze to drop steadily downward until it reached the windows of the +sixteenth floor. There it remained fixed for a full moment.</p> + +<p>There came from between his teeth a sudden intake of breath.</p> + +<p>Had he seen some movement at the window to the right of the wires that +led to the aerials? He must see, no matter how great the risk.</p> + +<p>Drawing a small pair of binoculars from his pocket, he fixed them on the +spot. He then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> turned a screw at the side of the binocular and suddenly +there appeared upon the wall of the building a round spot of brilliant +light. The size of a plate, this mysterious spot moved rapidly backward +and forward until it at last rested upon the wires by the window.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" came in an involuntary whisper from the boy's lips.</p> + +<p>A hand, the slender, graceful hand of a girl had been clearly outlined +against the wall. Quickly as it had been withdrawn, Curlie had seen that +between the thumb and finger of that hand was the end of a wire.</p> + +<p>"Been tapping the aerial. A girl!" he muttered incredulously. "And it +was she who whispered to me out of the night."</p> + +<p>He had been crouching low. Now he rose, stretched himself, pocketed his +instrument and was about to make his way out of the yard when, with the +suddenness of a tiger, a body launched itself upon his back.</p> + +<p>So unexpected was the assault that the boy's body closed up like a jack +knife. He fell, face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> down, completely doubled up, with his face between +his knees.</p> + +<p>"Now I got yuh!" was snarled into his ear. The weight on his back was +crushing. He could scarcely breathe.</p> + +<p>"You—you have," he managed to groan.</p> + +<p>"You'll come along," said the voice.</p> + +<p>Curlie did not speak nor stir. The weight was partly lifted from his +back. The man had dropped one foot to the ground.</p> + +<p>Now Curlie, had he been properly exercised for it when he was a child, +might have turned out a fair contortionist. He was exceedingly slim and +limber and had learned many of the tricks of the contortionist. He had +done this merely to amuse his friends. Now the tricks stood him in good +stead.</p> + +<p>He did not attempt to rise by straightening up, as most persons would +have done. When the pressure grew less, he lay still doubled up, face +down upon the ground.</p> + +<p>This gave him two advantages. It led his assailant to believe him +injured in some way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> and at the same time left him in position for the +next move.</p> + +<p>When the pressure had been sufficiently removed for his purpose, he took +a quick, strong breath, then with a rush which set every muscle in +action, he thrust his head between his knees, gripped his own ankles and +did a double turn over which resembled nothing so much as a boulder +rolling down hill.</p> + +<p>The next instant, finding himself free, he sprang to his feet, dodged +behind a taxi, shot past three moving cars, leaped to the pavement, +skirted a wall, then dodged into an alley.</p> + +<p>Down this alley there was a doorway. Into the shadow of this doorway he +threw himself. There was a hole in the wooden door. A hook could be +reached through the hole. The hook quickly lifted, he found himself +inside a narrow court at the back of a large apartment building. There +was a driveway from this court into the street beyond.</p> + +<p>Assuming a natural pace, he made his way down this driveway and out into +the street<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> where, with a low whistled tune, he made his way back toward +the heart of the city. Five blocks farther down he paused to adjust his +clothing.</p> + +<p>"Wow! but that was a close one," he muttered. "Don't know who my heavy +friend was but he sure wanted to detain me for some reason or other. But +say!" he mused; "how about that girl? Hope I didn't get her in bad by +flashing that light on her hand.</p> + +<p>"But then," he thought more soberly, "perhaps she is the principal bad +one. Perhaps she is whispering on 200 just to mislead me. Who knows? +You've got to be wise as a serpent when you play this game, that's what +you've got to be. There's just two kinds of radio detectives, the quick +and the dead." He chuckled dryly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess Coles Masters will think I'm one of the dead ones if I +don't rush on."</p> + +<p>Hurrying to the next street, he boarded a car to make his way back to +the secret lower room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span></p> + +<p>During his absence things had been happening in the mysterious radio +world that hangs like a filmy ghost-land above the sleeping world.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2><h3>A GAME FOR TWO</h3> +</div> + +<p>As Curlie slipped noiselessly through the door into the secret tower +room, he was seized by the arm and dragged into his chair.</p> + +<p>"Man! where have you been?" It was Coles Masters. He spoke in an excited +whisper. "Listen to that! It's the second message. He'll repeat it +again. They always do."</p> + +<p>As Curlie listened, his face grew grave with concern. The message came +from the head station of the radiophone secret service bureau. That +station was located in New York. The message was a reprimand. Kindly, +friendly but firmly, it told Curlie that for two nights now someone in +his area had been breaking in on 600. Coast-to-ship messages had been +disturbed. Once an S. O. S. from a disabled fishing schooner had barely +escaped being lost.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> Something must be done about it at once! By Curlie! +In Chicago!</p> + +<p>With parted lips and bated breath Curlie listened to the message as it +came to him in code. Then, with trembling fingers, he adjusted a lever, +touched a button, turned a screw and dictated to a station in another +part of the city his answering O.K. to the message.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he said to Coles, as he lifted the receiver from his head, +"that means that this fellow that races all over the map has been at it +again to-night."</p> + +<p>"About an hour ago," said Coles, wrinkling his brow.</p> + +<p>"What did you do about it?"</p> + +<p>"What was there to do? I tried to locate him. He danced about, first +here, then there. I marked his locations. They were never the same. +See," he pointed to the map. "I numbered them. He spoke from five +different points."</p> + +<p>"What did he say?"</p> + +<p>"It's all written down there," Coles motioned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> to a pad. "Can't make +head nor tail to it. Something about a map, an airplane, a boat and a +lot of gold."</p> + +<p>"What kind of voice?"</p> + +<p>"Sounded young. Some boy in late teens, I'd say. Though it might have +been a girl. She might have changed her voice to disguise it. You can't +tell. Had two cases like that in the last three weeks. You never can +tell about voices."</p> + +<p>"No," said Curlie, thoughtfully, "you never can tell. That's about the +only thing you can be sure of in this strange old world. You can always +be sure that you never can tell. Thing that looks like one thing always +turns out to be something else.</p> + +<p>"Point is," he continued after a moment's deep thought, "somebody's +getting past our guard. Slamming us right in the nose and we're not +doing a thing about it. Don't look like we could. I've got a theory but +you can't go searching the estate of the richest man in your city just +on theory; you've got to have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> facts to back you up, and mighty definite +facts, too."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's right," agreed Coles. "But what do you make out of all that +babble about airplane, map, ship and much gold? Do you suppose it's some +smuggling scheme, some plan to get a lot of Russian or Austrian jewels +into the country without paying duty or something like that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't make anything out of that," said Curlie rather sharply, "and +for the time, I don't jolly much care. The thing I'm interested in is +the fact that we're being beaten; that the air about us is being torn to +shreds every night by some careless or criminal person; that we're +getting a black eye and a reprimand from the department; that sea +traffic is being interrupted; that lives are being imperiled and we +can't seem to do anything about it. That's what's turning my liver dark +black!" He pounded the desk before him until instruments rattled and +wires sang.</p> + +<p>"But how you are going to catch a fellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> when he goes tearing all over +the map," said Curlie, more calmly, "is exactly what I don't know. You +go down and get a bite of chow. No, go on home and go to bed. I'll take +the rest of the shift. I want to think. I think best when I'm alone; +when the wires sing me a song; when the air whispers to me out of the +night; when the ghosts of dead radio-men, ghosts of operators who joked +with death when the sea was reaching up mighty arms to drag them down, +come back to talk to me. That's when I think best. These whispering +ghosts tell me things. When I sit here all, asleep but my ears, things +seem to come to me."</p> + +<p>"Bah!" said Coles Masters, shivering, "you give me the creeps."</p> + +<p>Drawing on his coat, he slipped out of the door, leaving Curlie slumped +down in his chair already all asleep but his wonderful ears.</p> + +<p>For a full hour he sat lumped up there. Seeming scarcely to breathe, +stirring now and then as in sleep, he continued to listen and to dream.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span></p> + +<p>Then suddenly he sat up with a start to exclaim out loud:</p> + +<p>"Yes! That's it. Catch a thief with a thief. Catch a radiophone with a +radiophone. A radiophone on wheels? That's a game two can play at. I'll +do it! To-morrow night."</p> + +<p>Snapping up a telephone receiver he murmured:</p> + +<p>"Central 662."</p> + +<p>A moment later he tuned an instrument and threw on a switch; "Weightman +there?" he inquired. "Asleep? Wake him up. This is Curlie Carson. Yes, +it's important. No, I'll tell you. Don't bother to wake him now—have +him over at the Coffee Shop at five bells. The Coffee Shop. He'll know. +Don't fail! It's important!"</p> + +<p>He snapped down the receiver. Weightman was the radio mechanic assigned +to his station. He would have unusual and important work to do that day.</p> + +<p>He slumped down again in his chair but did not remain in that position +many minutes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span></p> + +<p>From one of the loud speakers came a persistent whisper:</p> + +<p>"Hello. Hello, Curlie, you there?" the girlish voice purred, the one +that had whispered to him before. "I saw you to-night. That was +dangerous. Why did you do it? Nearly got me in bad. Not quite. He almost +got you."</p> + +<p>The whisper ceased. Adjusting the campus coil Curlie sat at strained +attention.</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew you were listening," came again. "It's hard to be +whispering into the night and not knowing you're being heard."</p> + +<p>Curlie's fingers moved nervously over a tuner knob. He was sorely +tempted to tune in and flash an answering "O.K.," if nothing more.</p> + +<p>But, no, he drew his hands resolutely back. It was not wise. There was +danger in it. This might be a trap. They might locate his secret tower +room by that single O.K. Then disaster would follow.</p> + +<p>The whisper came again: "You're clever, Curlie, awfully clever. The way +you doubled over and turned yourself wrong side out was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> great! But +please do be careful. It's big, Curlie, big!" again the whisper rose +almost to speaking tone. "And he is a terribly determined man; wouldn't +stop at anything."</p> + +<p>The whisper ceased.</p> + +<p>For a moment Curlie sat there lost in reflection, then he muttered +savagely: "Oh! get off the air, you little whispering mystery, you're +spoiling my technique. Your very terrible friend didn't send any message +to-night and the one he sent before hasn't got us into any trouble. I've +got to forget you and go after this moving fellow who sends 600."</p> + +<p>As if in answer to his challenge the loud speaker to his right, the one +tuned to 1200, began to rattle. Then, in the full, determined tones of a +man accustomed to speak with authority there came:</p> + +<p>"Calm night."</p> + +<p>Three times, over five thousand miles of air, this great voice bellowed +its message.</p> + +<p>The silence which followed was ghostly. Cold perspiration stood out on +Curlie's brow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span></p> + +<p>It was not necessary for him to calculate the location from which this +message was sent. He knew that it had come from the hotel. And it had.</p> + +<p>"Next thing," he told himself with a groan, "the International Service +will be on my back for letting that lion roar. I ought to turn that over +to the police; but I won't, not just yet."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2><h3>IN THE DARK</h3> +</div> + +<p>As the clock in a distant college tower struck the hour of eleven the +following night, a flat looking car with a powerful engine stole out +into the road that ran by the Forest Preserve. It was the Humming Bird. +Joe Marion was at the wheel. Curlie sat beside him.</p> + +<p>On the back of the car was a miscellaneous pile of instruments all +securely clamped down. Above there hung suspended between two vertical +bars a square frame from which there gleamed the copper wires of a coil.</p> + +<p>To catch a radiophone on wheels, Curlie had reasoned, one must mount his +radio compass on wheels and pursue the offender. How well it would work, +he could not even guess, but anything was better than sitting there +helpless in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> the secret tower room listening to this person tearing up +the air in a manner both unwise and unlawful.</p> + +<p>So here they were, prepared to make the test.</p> + +<p>"Of course," Curlie grumbled, "now we've got the trap set, the ghost may +decide not to walk on this particular night. That'll be part of our +rotten luck."</p> + +<p>"Most ghosts, I'm told," chuckled Joe, "prefer to walk when there's +someone about, for what's the good of a ghost-walk when there's no one +to see. So our radio ghost may show up after all."</p> + +<p>Curlie lapsed into silence. He was reviewing the events which led up to +this thrilling moment. When the message on 600 came banging to his ears +with great power on that first night, he had carefully platted the +various locations of the person who had sent the messages. There had +been some criss-crosses shown but, in the main, a line drawn through +these points had formed an oblong which on the actual<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> surface of the +ground must have been some ten miles in length by six in width. One +interesting point was that the first and last messages of that night had +been sent at points not a quarter of a mile apart.</p> + +<p>"Which goes to show," he reasoned, "that this fellow started from a +certain point and made his way back to that point, just as a rabbit will +do when chased by a hound. And those two points, the start and the +finish, are close to the driveway into the million dollar estate. But of +course that doesn't prove that the car came from there. Any person could +drive to that point, begin operations, race over the square and return +to the point."</p> + +<p>Coles Masters had platted the points for the second night. A line drawn +through these points made a figure quite irregular in form, which was, +however, composed of rectangles.</p> + +<p>"Which proves," he told himself, "that our friend, the lawless radio +fan, drives an auto and not an airplane. An auto follows roads, which +for the most part in this section form<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> squares. He passed along two or +three sides of these squares and this makes up the figure.</p> + +<p>"There's only one thing in common in the two night journeys," he +continued. "The start and finish are at almost exactly the same spot, +near the entrance of that great estate."</p> + +<p>He tried not to allow these facts to cause him to hold undue suspicion +against the inhabitants of that mansion, but in this he experienced some +difficulty.</p> + +<p>"The thing for us to do," he had said to Joe, "is to run out there and +back our car into an unfrequented, wooded road running into the forest +preserve. We don't dare go too near the original starting place. If +we're seen with this load of junk it will give us dead away. Thing is to +be ready to move quickly when he lets loose with his message. Ought not +to be more than a mile away, I'd say. He's got a powerful car. You can +tell that by the fact that he sent a message at this corner, then raced +over here, four miles distant, and got another message off in eleven +minutes, which is quick action."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span></p> + +<p>They backed into the grass-grown road of the Forest Preserve, then +settled down in their places to wait.</p> + +<p>The night was dark. There was no moon. Clouds were scurrying overhead. +Only the rustle of leaves and the startled tweet-tweet of some bird +surprised in his sleep disturbed the utter silence of the woods.</p> + +<p>"Ghostly," whispered Joe, then he lapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>With his slim legs stretched out before him, Curlie was soon asleep, all +but his ears. Joe insisted that those ears never slept.</p> + +<p>A half hour, an hour, an hour and a half dragged by. Joe had gone quite +to sleep when Curlie suddenly dug him in the ribs and uttered the +shrilly whispered warning:</p> + +<p>"Hist! There she blows!"</p> + +<p>A flashlight was snapped on. Curlie's fingers flew from instrument to +instrument. The voice of the mysterious operator could be heard. Now +rising, now falling, it filled the woods with echoes, yet the speaker +was more than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> a mile away, as near as the boys could guess.</p> + +<p>The words spoken by him were now of no importance. Location was +everything.</p> + +<p>"Same place," exclaimed Curlie, "exactly the same! You know where! Drive +like mad!"</p> + +<p>Instantly the car lurched forward. Coming out of the bush on two wheels, +she sent a shower of gravel flying as she rushed madly down the road.</p> + +<p>Quick as they were, the quarry had been quicker. As they rounded a +corner, they caught the red gleam of a tail-light disappearing at the +next turn.</p> + +<p>"Heck!" said Curlie, then, "Let her out! Show him some speed."</p> + +<p>The motor of the Humming Bird sang joyously. Fairly eating up the road, +she took the corner with a wide swing. But when they looked down the +long stretch of highway there was no red tail-light to be seen.</p> + +<p>"Heck!" said Curlie again, "he's reached the next crossroad and turned +the corner. Can't tell which way he went. It's a hard, dry gravel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> +roadbed—won't tell a thing. Best we can do is to rattle along up there, +then sit it out for another listen-in."</p> + +<p>Disappointed but not disheartened, Curlie adjusted his instruments, then +sat in breathless expectation.</p> + +<p>He did not have long to wait, for again the voice in the loud speaker +boomed out into the night.</p> + +<p>"Huh," he grumbled a few seconds later, "he's got three miles lead on +us. To the right. Quick, give her the gas."</p> + +<p>Again they were off. For two miles and a half straight ahead they raced. +The Humming Bird quivered like a leaf, instruments jingling in spite of +their lashings.</p> + +<p>"Make it all the way," said Curlie, as Joe slowed up. "He's not there. +Given us the slip again."</p> + +<p>Six times this program was gone through with. Not once in all that time +did they catch sight of that tail-light.</p> + +<p>"Some car he's got!" said Curlie when the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> farce was ended. "Bet he +never even guessed he was being chased. But you wait; we'll get him +yet."</p> + +<p>When they were once more in the secret tower room Curlie plotted the +route of the mysterious operator.</p> + +<p>"Only significant thing about that," he commented, when he had finished, +"is that he starts and finishes within a quarter of a mile of the same +place as on the other two nights."</p> + +<p>"And that place—" suggested Joe.</p> + +<p>"Is near old J. Anson's driveway."</p> + +<p>"Looks mighty suspicious to me," said Joe.</p> + +<p>"Does to me, too; but, as I have said before, you can't raid a man's +private castle on any such flimsy proof as that. You've got to have the +goods.</p> + +<p>"Tell you what," he said after a moment's silence, "sometimes our +natural ears and eyes are better than all these instruments and wires. +I'm going out there to-morrow night alone and on foot."</p> + +<p>"Might work," said Joe thoughtfully, "but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> whatever you do, you must be +careful."</p> + +<p>"Careful?" said Curlie scornfully. "There are times when a fellow can't +afford to be careful. This thing's getting serious." He glanced over a +second message from the head office of his bureau. It was couched in no +gentle terms. He was told that this intruder must be caught and that at +once if he, Curlie Carson, wished to hold his position as chief of the +secret tower room station.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2><h3>A REAL DISCOVERY</h3> +</div> + +<p>Darkness found Curlie again on the edge of the Forest Preserve. This +time he was on foot and alone. Apparently he carried nothing. His right +hip pocket bulged, the handle of a flashlight protruded from his coat +pocket, that was all.</p> + +<p>He did not pause at the spot where they had hid their car the night +before, but continued down the main road for a half mile farther. There +he plunged into the forest, to continue his journey under cover. Eleven +o'clock found him concealed in a clump of bushes in the woods that lay +opposite the millionaire's driveway.</p> + +<p>"If they come to-night," he whispered to himself, "I'll know whether +they belong on that estate or not, and if they do I'll know who it is. +Anyway, I'll know it's one of J. Anson's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> folks. And we'll see if it is +a boy or the girl?"</p> + +<p>The question interested him. He had no relish for getting a girl into +trouble, especially that frank-faced, smiling girl he had seen on +horseback.</p> + +<p>"But the thing must stop," he told himself sternly, taking a tight grip +on something in his hip pocket.</p> + +<p>The night was clear. He could see objects quite plainly. The trees, the +shrubbery, the stone pillars at the entrance to the driveway, stood out +in bold relief. For a time he sat staring at them in silence. At last he +closed his eyes and slept, as was his custom, all but his ears.</p> + +<p>He was startled from this stupor by a sudden flash of light which made +its presence felt even through his eyelids.</p> + +<p>As his eyes flew open, he found himself staring at two glowing +headlights. The next instant he had flattened himself in the grass.</p> + +<p>"Wow! Hope they didn't see me!" he whispered.</p> + +<p>A low-built, powerful car had come purring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> so quietly down the driveway +of the estate that it had rounded a sudden curve before he had been +aware of its presence.</p> + +<p>Now, with undiminished speed, it turned to the right, entered the public +highway and sped straight on.</p> + +<p>As Curlie rose from the grass to stare after it, a low exclamation +escaped his lips. Supported by high parallel bars, which were doubtless +in turn supported by strong guy wires, were the aerials of a radiophone. +The whole of this rose from, and rested upon, the body of the powerful +roadster.</p> + +<p>"And I missed them!" he exploded, then:</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't. They're stopping."</p> + +<p>It was true. Some eighty rods down the road the car had slowed up. He +had no means of telling what they were doing but felt quite warranted in +supposing they were sending a message.</p> + +<p>Like a flash he was away through the brush. Speed and the utmost caution +were necessary. If a limb cracked, if he fell over a hidden ditch,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> the +quarry would be frightened away. He must see what was going on, see it +with his own eyes.</p> + +<p>Fairly holding his breath, he struggled forward. Now he had covered a +third of the distance, now half, now three-quarters and now—</p> + +<p>His lips parted in an unuttered groan. He leaped out of the bush. +Something flashed in his hand. For a second that thing was pointed down +the road where the speedy car had suddenly resumed its journey. Then his +hand dropped to his side.</p> + +<p>"No," he said slowly, "it won't do. Too risky. Guess they haven't seen +me. If not, they will be back. And next time," he shook his fist at the +vanishing car, "next time my fair lad or lady, you won't escape me."</p> + +<p>Turning back, he again disappeared into the brush.</p> + +<p>In the meantime things were happening in the air. Coles Masters, who was +in charge of the secret tower room, had his hands full. He switched on +this loud-speaker and lowered that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> one to a whisper. He tuned in this +one and cut that one out.</p> + +<p>"Whew!" he exclaimed, mopping his brow, "what a night! Wish Curlie were +here."</p> + +<p>To start the night's entertainment a boy had broken in on the radio +concert. Then a crank had come shouting right into the middle of a +speech by a politician. A few moments later a message on 1200 had fairly +burst his ear-drums. The message had been short, composed of just three +words:</p> + +<p>"Dark, cloudy night."</p> + +<p>"Regular thunderbolt behind that!" he muttered as he measured the +location and found it to come from the city's great hotel. "Enough there +to send it round the world. Shouldn't be surprised to get the echo of it +in a few seconds myself. The nerve of the man!"</p> + +<p>In strange contrast to this was the whisper which followed within five +minutes. It was sent on 200.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Curlie. Did you get that? Terrible, wasn't it?" came the +whisper. "But, Curlie, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> don't think you need to bother about him. He's +leaving in a day or two. He's going, far, far away. He's going north; +out of your territory entirely. I know you'd love to catch him, Curlie, +but it would be dangerous, awfully dangerous! So don't you try, for he +is going far, far away."</p> + +<p>Coles Masters' fingers had worked rapidly during this whispered message. +Not only had he measured the distance and taken the location, but he had +written down the message word for word.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he muttered. "That was a girl, a young girl +and a pretty one too, or I miss my guess. Anyway she has an interesting +whisper. She's at that same hotel and seems to know Curlie. She must +have broken in on my 1200 friend. So he's going north? Can't go any too +soon for me. Mighty queer case. Have to turn it over to Curlie. It's all +Greek to me."</p> + +<p>"Hello, there! What—"</p> + +<p>He wheeled about to snap a button. A message was being shouted out on +600.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's the chap Curlie's after. So he hasn't got him yet? Well, here's +hoping he hurries." His pencil began rapidly writing the message.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Curlie in his woods retreat had moved silently over to the +other side of the driveway.</p> + +<p>"Probably will come back the other way," he concluded.</p> + +<p>He did not remain behind the fence this time but threw himself into the +shallow depths of a dry ravine. He remained keenly alert. His eyes were +constantly on the road, which lay like a brown ribbon a full mile +straight before him.</p> + +<p>He was thinking of his various cases. Equal in interest to the one which +he was now hunting down was that big hotel case. He was thinking of the +girl. Why had she whispered those messages to him? Was she merely a tool +of the man behind the powerful radio machine? Was she simply leading him +on? He could not feel that she was. Somehow her whisper had an accent of +genuine interest in it.</p> + +<p>"Wonder what she's like," he asked himself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> Then, with a smile playing +about his lips, he tried to guess.</p> + +<p>"Small, very active, has dark brown hair and snappy black eyes." After a +moment's thought he chuckled: "Probably really a heavy blonde; something +like two hundred pounds. You can't tell anything by a voice. You—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he braced himself up on his elbows. His keen ears had caught a +distant purring sound. Two yellow balls of fire were rapidly +approaching—the headlights of a fast-moving automobile.</p> + +<p>"He comes! Now for it!" He prepared to spring.</p> + +<p>In an amazingly short time the car was all but upon him. Leaping to his +feet, he let out a wild whoop and, brandishing his automatic +threateningly, stood squarely in the middle of the road.</p> + +<p>His heart beat wildly. There could be no mistake. He saw the wires and +rods swaying above the car.</p> + +<p>For a second the car slowed up, then, with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> snort it leaped right at +him. Nimble as he was, he barely escaped being run down.</p> + +<p>As the car flashed past him, he wheeled about and almost instantly his +automatic barked three times. Simultaneous with the last shot there came +a louder explosion.</p> + +<p>"Tire! Got you," he muttered.</p> + +<p>Instantly the car swerved to the side of the road. A tire had gone flat. +The car had skidded.</p> + +<p>The rods which carried the aerials caught in a tree top. The car, jerked +back like a mad horse caught by a lariat, reared up on its hind wheels, +threatened to turn turtle, then crashed over on its side with its engine +still racing wildly.</p> + +<p>Sudden as had been the catastrophe, it had not been too quick for the +driver. Just as the car crashed over, Curlie caught sight of a figure in +long linen duster and with closely wrapped head, dashing up the bank, +over the fence and into the brush.</p> + +<p>"Go it," he exclaimed, making no attempt to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> catch the fugitive, "you +know the country better than I do. I'd never catch you in that labyrinth +of trees. Besides, I don't need to. Your equipment is pretty well +smashed up and you've left me enough evidence to make out a beautiful +case."</p> + +<p>Walking over to the machine, he reached over and shut off the engine. +After that, in a very leisurely manner he collected various odds and +ends from the radiophone equipment. Having stuffed these into his +pockets, he wrenched the back number plate from the machine and tucked +it under his arm.</p> + +<p>"Guess that's enough," he murmured. "Now I can take my own time in +springing the thing. He probably thinks I was a hold-up man, but even if +he guessed the truth he couldn't escape me and couldn't get his +equipment back in shape short of a week, so that's that."</p> + +<p>Turning, he started toward the nearest interurban line a good five miles +away.</p> + +<p>When he had walked a mile, he stopped suddenly in his track.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span></p> + +<p>"Say!" he exclaimed. "Was that the son or the daughter? All muffled up +that way I couldn't tell."</p> + +<p>"Ho, well," he resumed his march, "that'll come out in time. Only I hope +it wasn't the girl. I sort of liked her looks."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2><h3>CURLIE RECEIVES A SHOCK</h3> +</div> + +<p>Having boarded an interurban car, Curlie slept his way into the city. +Once there he hurried over to the secret tower room, where the news of +his night's adventure was received with great joy.</p> + +<p>"So you got him!" exclaimed Coles Masters. "Smashed him up right? Bully +for you. That's great!" He slapped Curlie on the back.</p> + +<p>Dropping into his chair, Curlie dictated a message by secret wire to +headquarters in New York. The message stated in modest, concise terms +that the nuisance on 600 in the secret tower region was at an end; that +the station had been effectively broken up and that the offender would +no doubt soon be in the hands of the law.</p> + +<p>A half hour later he received a highly commendatory<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> message, +congratulating him on his achievement and bidding him keep up the good +work.</p> + +<p>After glancing over Coles' reports for the evening and making mental +notes from them, Curlie prepared to seek his bed and indulge in a good, +long sleep, the first in several days.</p> + +<p>"There isn't a bit of hurry in going after that rich young fellow or +girl, if it is a girl," he said to Coles. "That'll keep. We've got +plenty of proof." He jerked a thumb toward the corner where was a box +into which he had tossed the various small parts of a sending set and +the number plate of the car. "All we need to do now is to saunter out +there some fine morning and have a heart-to-heart talk with J. Anson +himself."</p> + +<p>Had Curlie but known it, there was to be a great deal more than that to +it. There was to be an adventure in it for him such as he had never +before experienced, an adventure which was destined to take him +thousands of miles from the secret tower room and which was to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> throw +him into such dangers as would cause the bravest to shrink back in +terror.</p> + +<p>Since he was blissfully ignorant of all this he was also blissfully +happy in the consciousness of having achieved success in the thing he +had undertaken.</p> + +<p>"This," he laughed as he said it, "is going to bring me face to face +with one of America's greatest millionaires. It's like going before a +king in some ways. In others I fancy it's more like meeting a lion in +the street. Anyway, I've always wanted to meet a king, a lion and a +millionaire and here's where I meet one of them. Ever meet one?" He +turned to Coles.</p> + +<p>"Meet which?" Coles smiled. "King, lion or millionaire?"</p> + +<p>"Millionaire."</p> + +<p>"No, can't say that I have, though I doubt if we'd either of us +recognize one if we should meet him on the street. Someone has said that +humanity is everywhere much the same and I fancy that's true even of +very rich folks. They may try to bluff you with their power but if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> they +find they can't do that, I guess they'll turn out to have the same +dreams, the same hopes and fears, the same joys and sorrows as the rest +of us."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" said Curlie thoughtfully. "I hope that's true. It +would be a good thing for the world if it were true and if all the +people in the world knew it.</p> + +<p>"Well, good night." He drew on his cap. "See you in about sixteen hours. +Guess it'll take me that long to catch up my sleep. After that I'm going +after that fellow who's breaking in on 1200, that fellow over at the +hotel with the whispering friend, or enemy, whichever she may turn out +to be."</p> + +<p>Had he but known it, it was to be many days before he was to go after +that offender on the 1200 meter wave lengths and then it was to be in +ways of which he had not yet dreamed. And so he slept.</p> + +<p>When he awoke after fourteen hours of refreshing sleep, it was to hear +the newsies crying their evening papers. For some time he lay<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> there +listening to their shrill shouts and attempting to catch what they were +saying.</p> + +<p>"Ex-tree! All about—" He could get that far, probably because he had +heard it so often before, but no further could he go. The remainder was +a jumble of meaningless sounds.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as he listened, a shrill urchin shouted the words out directly +beneath his very window:</p> + +<p>"Wul—ex-tree! All about the mur-der-ed millionaire's son!"</p> + +<p>"Here! Here!" exclaimed Curlie, thrusting his head out of the window. +"What millionaire's son? Give me one of those papers." He tossed the boy +a nickel and received a tightly wrapped paper. Sent through the window +as if shot from a catapult, it landed with a bump on the floor.</p> + +<p>His hand trembled so he could scarcely unroll the paper. His head +whirled.</p> + +<p>"Murdered?" he said to himself. "Millionaire's son murdered? Can it be +Vincent Ardmore? Did a bullet from my automatic, glancing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> from the +wheel, inflict a mortal wound?"</p> + +<p>He saw himself behind prison bars in murderer's row.</p> + +<p>Cold perspiration stood out on his brow as he read in staring headlines:</p> + +<p style='text-align: center;'>"J. ANSON ARDMORE'S SON BELIEVED MURDERED."</p> + +<p>"Believed?" He caught at that single word as a camel in a desert snaps +at a straw. So they were not sure.</p> + +<p>Hastily he read the column through, then dropped limply into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Oh! What a shock!" he breathed.</p> + +<p>He was vastly relieved. The article stated that the car belonging to the +millionaire's son had been found by a laborer employed on the estate as +he came to his work very early in the morning. The car, which was badly +smashed up, bore the mark of a bullet in a rear tire and one in the +lower part of the body. It was believed that the young man, being +pursued by bandits and having attempted to escape, had had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> his car +riddled by bullets and had been thrown into the ditch.</p> + +<p>"There are grave reasons for supposing," the article went on to state, +"since no trace of the young man has yet been found, that he has been +either kidnapped for ransom or, having been killed by a stray bullet, +has been buried somewhere in the forest preserve.</p> + +<p>"Bands of armed men are searching the woods and every available police +officer and detective has been put on the case. A reward of $5,000 has +been offered by the father for any information which may lead to the +discovery of the whereabouts of his son."</p> + +<p>"Whew!" exclaimed Curlie, mopping his brow. "What a rumpus!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he sat up straight. "Doesn't say one word about that wireless +apparatus in the car. How about that?"</p> + +<p>He sat with wrinkled brow for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he slapped his knee, "I have it! The laborer of course came +directly to his master. The shrewd old millionaire, guessing that his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> +son had been breaking radio laws, had all of that equipment removed +before the public was let in on the deal. He bribed the laborer to +secrecy on that point and there you are."</p> + +<p>Again his brow wrinkled. "Five thousand dollars!" he whispered. "That's +a lot of money. I could supply some valuable information which might +entitle me to the five thousand. Question is, do I want to risk it? The +thing that's happened is about this, far as I can figure it out: Our +young amateur radio friend, when his auto turned turtle, hiked off into +the woods. For a time he stayed there. Then, when nothing happened for +some time, he came sneaking back. When he found I'd taken his number +plate and some parts of his radio equipment, he guessed right away that +I was connected with the radio secret service. He's hiding right now, +unless I miss my guess, with some of his rich young friends.</p> + +<p>"I might tell all that and I might get the reward, but supposing +something really had happened? Oh, boy, what a mess!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span></p> + +<p>"And yet," he mused, after a moment, "I've done nothing to be ashamed +of. I'm an officer of the law. I did what I did because a fellow was +resisting arrest. Ho, well, I'll just let things stand and simmer. +Something may come to the top yet."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2><h3>CURLIE MEETS A MILLIONAIRE</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was a tense situation for Curlie. He spent an uneasy night and that +in spite of the fact that the air was particularly free from trouble.</p> + +<p>"Hang it all," he exclaimed once as, dashing the receiver from his head, +he sprang from his chair to pace the floor of the secret tower room, +"I'd welcome something in the line of trouble. This eternal +thinking—thinking—thinking, drives me wild. What to do, that's the +question. Suppose I'd ought to go out and tell Ardmore what I know. If a +millionaire father's like any other father, I guess he's pretty well +wrought up by now. But if I go, and if I tell him the whole truth, I'm +as sure as I am of anything that it will get me into a mess and that's +the sort of thing I don't like."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span></p> + +<p>Glancing down, his eye was caught by Coles' report of the night before. +Dropping once more into his chair, he began going through the messages +written there. When he came to the one sent out by the boy whose car he +had wrecked, he pondered over it for a long time.</p> + +<p>"'Island, airplane, map, much gold; airplane, map, island, gold,'" he +repeated. "What does one make out of that? It might be that this boy has +been planning a secret voyage with some other chap. Certainly sounds +like it. Other messages were the same kind. By Jove! Perhaps he's +skipped out and gone on that trip and is not hiding out at all! Let's +see."</p> + +<p>Taking down a file he drew forth a bunch of message records clipped +together. They were those sent by the moving operator on 600, the +millionaire's son.</p> + +<p>A long time he studied over these.</p> + +<p>"Seems to sort of prove my theory," he muttered once. "Can't be sure +though."</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly he sat up straight. "That's the idea." He slapped his +knee. "The very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span> thing! Why didn't I think of that before? If he +doesn't shew up by morning I'll do it. I'll just take these records over +to Ardmore and suggest to him that they may shed some light on the +subject. Don't need to tell him I was in on the wrecking of the car at +all. That wouldn't help any. These records might. And if I can help to +find him and bring him back, then, oh, boy! Oh you baby fortune! Five +thousand big, red, round dollars!"</p> + +<p>He sat back trying to measure the meaning of the possession of five +thousand dollars which did not have to be spent for bed, board and +clothing. At last he gave it up in despair.</p> + +<p>The morning papers assured the interested city that the son of their +money king was still missing. To make sure that this report was correct, +Curlie called up the mansion and inquired about it. When he learned that +it was indeed true, he requested the servant who answered the telephone +to inform the millionaire that a representative of the Secret Service of +the Air would arrive at his residence with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> copies of certain radiophone +messages sent out by his son previous to his mysterious disappearance, +which might shed some light on the subject.</p> + +<p>Shortly after that he leaped into the driver's seat on the Humming Bird +and motored away to the west.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the Forest Preserve, he backed the car into the deserted +roadway in the forest at the very spot where he and Joe had concealed +themselves the night of the race.</p> + +<p>"Have to leave you here, old thing," he whispered. "If a fellow were to +pull up that driveway in such a rakish craft as you are, they might +think him crazy and throw him out.</p> + +<p>"Well here goes," he whispered to himself, as, having rounded the last +clump of decorative shrubbery, he came in sight of the red stone +mansion.</p> + +<p>"Whew! What a stunner!" whispered Curlie to himself.</p> + +<p>The sun was tipping the parapets of that mansion with gold; the dew +sparkled on the perfectly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> kept green. It was indeed a beautiful +picture.</p> + +<p>Tiptoeing up the steps, he was about to lift the heavy bronze knocker +when a porter opened the door and motioned him to enter.</p> + +<p>"Are you the man?" he asked in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"I'm the boy who wired about the messages."</p> + +<p>"Step right this way. He's waiting."</p> + +<p>Curlie's heart beat fast. Was he to be ushered at once into the august +presence of the magnate? He had pictured to himself hours of waiting, +interviews by private secretaries and all that.</p> + +<p>And yet here he was. In a large room furnished in rich mahogany, +seemingly the rich man's home office, he was being greeted by a stout, +broad-shouldered, brisk and healthy-looking man who was assuring him +that he was speaking to J. Anson Ardmore himself and inviting him to sit +down.</p> + +<p>With his head in a whirl, he managed to get himself into a chair. And +all this while he was telling himself things; things like this:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> +"Curlie, old boy, this is going to be strenuous. This man is powerful, +magnetic, almost hypnotizing. He will find out as much as he can from +you. He will tell as little as is necessary to attain his end. To him +all life is a game, a game in which he conceals much and discovers all +that lies in his opponent's hand. He probably knows you have the goods +on his son. Perhaps he is merely playing a game about this vanishing +son. He may know where he is all the time. If so, he'll want to know +what you know, and what you are going to do. You must be wise—wise as a +serpent."</p> + +<p>"Well?" the magnate spoke in a brisk way. "My butler tells me you have +some messages."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Sent by my missing son?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And may I ask," the magnate's face was a mask, not a muscle moved, "how +you happened to be in possession of these messages?"</p> + +<p>Curlie could hear his own heart beat, but he held his ground. "Since I +am attached to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span> government radiophone staff, it is my duty to catch +and record all unfair and illegally sent messages, to record them as +evidence and for future reference."</p> + +<p>Curlie fancied he saw the man start. The words that followed were spoken +still in a cold, collected tone.</p> + +<p>"These messages you say were unfair?"</p> + +<p>"Unfair and illegally sent."</p> + +<p>"How illegal?"</p> + +<p>"They were sent with exceedingly high power and on 600 meter wave +lengths. Such high power is unlawful for all amateurs and the use of 600 +is granted to ships and ship stations alone.</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>For a second the man appeared to reflect. Then suddenly:</p> + +<p>"We are wasting time. My son has mysteriously disappeared. I have reason +to fear foul play. Let me assure you that I know nothing about his +whereabouts and, previous to this moment, that I have known nothing +regarding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> these illegally sent messages."</p> + +<p>"But—" began Curlie.</p> + +<p>"You doubt my word," his voice grew stern and hard as he read the +incredulity in Curlie's eyes. "Young man," he fairly thundered, "fix +this in your mind: No man ever has risen or ever will rise to my present +position through treachery or deceit. When I say a thing is so, by +thunder it <i>is</i> so!"</p> + +<p>He struck his desk a terrific blow.</p> + +<p>"But a—"</p> + +<p>Curlie caught himself just in time. He had been about to reveal the fact +that he was aware of the presence of the wireless set in the auto the +night the millionaire's son disappeared.</p> + +<p>"I can't see just how your messages could aid us in finding my son." The +magnate spoke more calmly. "However, all things are possible. May I see +the copies?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Curlie, hesitatingly, "this is a private matter. Few +persons know of our service. It is the desire of the government that +they should not know. These are not for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> publication. Do you understand +that?"</p> + +<p>"You have my word."</p> + +<p>Curlie passed the sheath of papers over the desk.</p> + +<p>Slowly, one by one, the great man read them. His movement was not +hurried. He digested every word. Like many another great man he had +formed the habit of gathering, as far as possible, the full meaning of +any set of facts by his own careful research, before allowing his +opinion to be influenced by others.</p> + +<p>He had gone half through the pack when a door over at the right opened +and a girl, dressed in some filmy stuff which brought out the smoothness +of her neck and arms and the beauty of her complexion, entered the room.</p> + +<p>Curlie caught his breath. It was the girl he had seen on the horse that +morning, the magnate's daughter.</p> + +<p>She had advanced halfway to her father's desk before she became aware of +Curlie's presence. Then she started back with a stammered: "I—I beg +your pardon."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's all right." The first smile Curlie had seen on the great man's +face now curved about his mouth. "You may remain. This is no secret +chamber."</p> + +<p>"Fa—father," she faltered, gripping at her throat, "does he know—know +anything—about—about Vincent?"</p> + +<p>"I can't tell yet. I am going over the messages. Please be seated."</p> + +<p>The girl sank into a deep leather-cushioned chair. Without looking at +her Curlie was aware of the fact that she was studying him, perhaps +trying to make up her mind where she had seen him before. This made him +exceedingly uncomfortable. He was greatly relieved when at last the +magnate spoke.</p> + +<p>"Gladys," he addressed the girl, "did you say you found some sort of map +in Vincent's room?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," she sprang to her feet. "A photograph of a very strange +looking map and also one of some queer foreign writing."</p> + +<p>"Will you run and get those photographs?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, father."</p> + +<p>"It's strange," the older man mused after she had gone. "I don't +understand it at all. These messages, they are—"</p> + +<p>"If you please—" Curlie broke in.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" commanded the other, holding up his hand for silence. "Let us +have no opinions before all of the evidence is in. That map may aid us +in forming correct conclusions."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2><h3>A MYSTERIOUS MAP</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was indeed a curious map which had been reproduced on the large +photographic print which Gladys Ardmore placed on the desk before her +father.</p> + +<p>Motioning Curlie to come forward and examine it with them, the magnate +rose from his chair to bend over the map. As Curlie stood there looking +down at it, the girl in her eagerness bent down so close to him that he +felt her warm breath on his cheek.</p> + +<p>Nothing, however, could have drawn his gaze from that map. Wrinkled, +torn in places, patched, browned with age, smirched by many finger +marks, all of which were faithfully reproduced by the freshly printed +photograph, it still gave promise of revealing many a mystery if one +could but read it correctly.</p> + +<p>It showed both land and water. Here on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span> land was a picture of a +castle and there on the water a ship. The shore of the land was not +drawn as are maps with which we are in these days familiar, but was cut +up in curious geometric forms which surely could not faithfully +represent the true lines of the shore. Towns were shown, but only on the +shoreline, their names printed in by hand in such small letters as would +require a magnifying glass to read them. Crossing and recrossing the +water in every conceivable direction were innumerable straight lines. +About the edge of the map were eight faces of children. Their cheeks +puffed out as if blowing, they appeared to represent the wind that blew +from certain quarters.</p> + +<p>All the writing was in some foreign language. In the lower left-hand +corner was what appeared to be the name of the maker but this was so +blotted out as to be unreadable.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" The magnate straightened up. "That's a strange map and appears to +be very ancient, but I can hardly see how it is going to help us with +our present problem."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span></p> + +<p>"There is still the writing," suggested Gladys, turning over the other +photograph.</p> + +<p>"That," said Mr. Ardmore, after a moment's study of it, "is written in +some strange tongue and is, I take it, unintelligible to us all."</p> + +<p>"It's a photograph of the back of the map," suggested Curlie, pointing +out certain spots where the wrinkles and tears were the same.</p> + +<p>"My French teacher will be here at ten o'clock. He knows several +languages. Perhaps he could help us," suggested Gladys.</p> + +<p>"We will leave that to him," said her father. "Now about these +messages," he went on, turning to Curlie. "What is your theory?"</p> + +<p>Stammeringly Curlie proceeded to explain the idea which had come to him, +the notion that Vincent Ardmore and some pal of his had been planning a +secret trip of some sort.</p> + +<p>"That is entirely possible," said Ardmore. "Vincent is daring, even rash +at times. If some wild fancy leaped into his head, he would attempt +anything. Now that you speak of it, I do think there might be something +in your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> theory. Perhaps after all we may get some light from that map +and the writing on the back of it. I shall await the coming of the +professor with much anxiety."</p> + +<p>"Father," exclaimed Gladys, "I have seen some such maps as this one at +some other place."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"It was over at that big library, the one you are a director of."</p> + +<p>"The Newtonian?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I was over there once and they showed me a great number of ancient +maps. Oh, a very great number, and such strange affairs as they were! +There were some similar to this one. I know there were!"</p> + +<p>"Young man," said the magnate, turning to Curlie, "may I command your +services on this matter for the day?"</p> + +<p>Curlie bowed.</p> + +<p>"Good! You will not be unrewarded. I am of the opinion that something +may be learned by a study of the maps my daughter speaks of. +Unfortunately I am engaged; I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> cannot go to the library. Would it be +asking too much were I to request that you accompany her?"</p> + +<p>Curlie assured him it would not. In his heart of hearts he assured +himself that it would be a great privilege.</p> + +<p>"Very well then, Gladys," the magnate bowed to his daughter, "I suggest +that you plan on being back here at eleven. By that time your French +teacher may have something to tell us."</p> + +<p>Bowing to them both, he dismissed them with a wave of his hand.</p> + +<p>As the neat little town car, which was apparently Gladys Ardmore's +exclusive property, hurried them away toward the north side library, +Curlie had time to think and to steal a look now and then at his fair +hostess.</p> + +<p>Matters had been going rather rapidly of late. He found it difficult to +keep up with the march of events. What should be his next move? He was +torn between two conflicting interests: his loyalty to the radio secret +service bureau and his desire to be of service to this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> girl and her +father. The girl, as he stole a glance at her, appeared disturbed and +troubled. There was a tenseness about the lines of her mouth, a droop to +her eyelids. "For all the world as if she were in some way to blame for +what has happened," he told himself.</p> + +<p>Instantly the question popped into his mind: "Does she know more than +she cares to tell?" He thought of the wireless equipment which had been +removed from the wrecked car before the reporters had arrived. The +laborer would hardly do that without orders from someone. Who had that +someone been? The millionaire had denied all knowledge of the radiophone +messages. Curlie believed that he had told the truth. Here was an added +mystery. He was revolving this in his mind when the girl spoke:</p> + +<p>"It must be very interesting listening in."</p> + +<p>"Listening in?" Curlie feigned ignorance of her meaning.</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't that what you do? Listen in on radio all the time?"</p> + +<p>Curlie started. How did she know?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, yes, since you've asked, that is my work."</p> + +<p>"Where—where—" she hesitated, "is your station?"</p> + +<p>"That," smiled Curlie, "is a state secret; very few know where it is."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she breathed. "A mystery?"</p> + +<p>Curlie nodded.</p> + +<p>"Something like that."</p> + +<p>"I love mysteries," she whispered. "I love to unravel them. Some day I +shall surprise you. I shall come walking into that secret room of +yours." There was a look on her face that he had not seen there before. +It was disturbing. It spoke of a quality which, he concluded, she had +inherited from her father, the quality of firmness and determination, +which had made him great.</p> + +<p>"I—I'd rather you wouldn't try," he almost stammered.</p> + +<p>"Oh! here we are," she exclaimed, "at the library."</p> + +<p>Leaping out of the car she led the way up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> the broad steps of an +imposing gray stone structure.</p> + +<p>"Down this way," she whispered, as if awed by the vast fund of knowledge +stowed away between those walls. Without further words they made their +way within.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later they were together bending over a great pile of +ancient maps. Done on sheepskin and vellum, gray and brown with age, yet +with colors as bright as on the day they were drawn, these maps spoke of +an age that was gone and of a map-making art that is lost forever.</p> + +<p>"Look at this one!" exclaimed the girl. "The date's on it—1450. Made +before the days of Columbus. And look! It is like the one Vincent had +the photograph of; the most like of any."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but not the same," said Curlie. "See, those strangely shaped +islands in the lower, right-hand corner are not on it; neither are the +cherubs blowing to imitate the wind."</p> + +<p>"That's true," said the girl in a disappointed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> tone, "I had hoped it +might be the same map. It might have told us something."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Curlie was struck with an idea. Leaving the girl's side, he +approached the librarian.</p> + +<p>"Have any of these maps been photographed recently?" he asked in a low +tone.</p> + +<p>"Not for several years," she answered. "But there are reproductions of +these and others. They're in a bound volume in the next room. There the +maps are reproduced on a large scale and a description of each is given. +The lady in charge will show you."</p> + +<p>Curlie tiptoed into that room. He was soon turning the pages of a large +book which resembled an atlas.</p> + +<p>After studying each successive page for some time, he came to a halt +with a suppressed exclamation.</p> + +<p>There, staring up at him, was a reproduction of the very map which had +been photographed for Vincent Ardmore and, if further proof were +lacking, there on the opposite page was a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> reproduction of the writing +on the back of it, with a translation in fine print below.</p> + +<p>Hurriedly he read this translation through. Twice he paused in utter +astonishment. Three times he wrote down a brief note on a scrap of +paper. When he had finished, he looked at the lower left-hand corner of +the map, then copied some figures reproduced there.</p> + +<p>Closing the book quickly, as if afraid the girl would find him looking +at it, he paused for a second to banish all sign of excitement from his +face, then walked leisurely from the room.</p> + +<p>"Find anything?" he asked in as quiet a tone as he could command.</p> + +<p>"No," there was a tired and worried look in her eyes. "I'm afraid the +map is not here."</p> + +<p>"By the way," he said in a casual way, "does your brother happen to have +a pal living at Landensport on the coast?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," she said quickly, "that's Alfred Brightwood. They were chums +in Brimward Academy."</p> + +<p>"I thought that might be so."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span></p> + +<p>"And you think—think—" she faltered.</p> + +<p>"What we think," he smiled a disarming smile, "doesn't count for much. +It's facts which really matter. Excuse me; I'll be back in a moment," he +said hurriedly. "Want to telephone."</p> + +<p>In the booth of the library he conversed long and earnestly with his +chief.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," came over the phone at last, "I don't see but that you had +better finish the thing up. We can't let rich young offenders off +easily. It would destroy the service entirely. Go ahead. Coles Masters +can handle the station while you are away."</p> + +<p>The interview ended, he got Joe Marion on the wire.</p> + +<p>"Joe," he said hurriedly, "throw some of my things into a bag and some +of your own with them. Be down at the Lake Shore station at one-fifteen +prepared for a short trip. Where to? Oh, New York and then some. It's +important and interesting. Be there! Good. Good-bye till then." He +snapped down the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> receiver and hurriedly left the booth.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go back?" he asked the girl.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we might as well," she said dejectedly. Then brightening +suddenly, "Yes, let's hurry back. Perhaps the professor has found out +something from that queer old writing."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2><h3>THE FIRST LAP OF A LONG JOURNEY</h3> +</div> + +<p>On the way back to the Ardmore home both the girl and her escort were +silent for some time. Then, turning to her, Curlie asked:</p> + +<p>"Has this friend of your brother's—Brightwood, did you say his name +was?—has he a seaplane?"</p> + +<p>"Is that an airplane which flies up from the ocean and lights upon it +when one wishes it to?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"He has one of those. Yes, I'm sure of it. He wanted to take me for a +ride out over the sea last summer."</p> + +<p>"And is he what you would call a daring chap, ready to attempt +anything?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, he is; but—but how do you know so many things?"</p> + +<p>"It is my duty to know."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span></p> + +<p>Again he lapsed into silence. On arriving at the estate they found +Gladys' father in a strange state of agitation.</p> + +<p>"Just received a telegram from an old and trusted friend who is on the +coast of Maine. He says Vincent has been seen there within the last +twenty-four hours. What that can mean I haven't the faintest notion. I +should go there at once but business makes it entirely impossible."</p> + +<p>"Under one condition," said Curlie soberly, "I will go East and attempt +to bring your son home. Indeed, I shall go anyway; have already arranged +transportation, in fact, and leave in two hours; but it would please me +if I might go with your approval."</p> + +<p>"You have arranged to go?" The older man's face expressed his +astonishment. "For what purpose?"</p> + +<p>"On a commission for the government."</p> + +<p>"And you wish my permission for what?"</p> + +<p>"To bring your son back with a warrant, under arrest."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span></p> + +<p>The older man looked at Curlie for a moment as if to discover whether or +not he was joking.</p> + +<p>"Young man," he said slowly, "do you know who I am?"</p> + +<p>"You are J. Anson Ardmore, one of the richest men of the Middle West."</p> + +<p>"And do you know that I could crush you with my influence?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I do not." Curlie drew himself up to his full height. "Those +days are gone forever. I am part of the United States government, the +government which has made it possible for you to gain your wealth. Her +laws must be obeyed. You could not crush me and, what is still more +important, you have no notion of doing so."</p> + +<p>"What?" The magnate's face became a study, then it broke into a smile. +"I like your spirit," he said seizing Curlie's hand in a viselike grip. +"You have the power of the law behind you; you need no consent of mine. +But so be it; if my son has broken the law, he shall suffer the +penalty."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span></p> + +<p>"There is one other matter," said Curlie soberly. "At the present moment +it is merely a theory. I am unable to offer any worth-while proof for +it, but it is my belief that your son and his chum, Alfred Brightwood, +are considering a very perilous seaplane journey. Indeed, they may even +at this moment be on their way. If that is true they should be followed +at once in some swift traveling vessel, for they are almost certain to +meet with disaster."</p> + +<p>"That Brightwood boy will be the death of us all yet," exploded the +father. "For sheer foolhardy daring I have never known his equal. Time +and again I have attempted to persuade Vincent to give up associating +with him, but it has been of no avail. Alfred appears to hold some +strange hypnotic power over him."</p> + +<p>For a moment he stood there in silence. When he spoke he was again the +sober, thoughtful business man.</p> + +<p>"If what you say is true, and you find that they have already departed +on this supposed journey, my private yacht is at your disposal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> It lies +in the mouth of the river at Landensport. The captain and engineer are +on board. You will need no further crew. She is the fastest private +engine-driven yacht afloat. If necessity demands, do not hesitate +risking her destruction, but you will not, of course, endanger your own +life."</p> + +<p>"All right; then I guess everything is settled. You will wire +instructions to the captain of the yacht. I must hurry to my train." +Curlie hastened from the room.</p> + +<p>Joe was awaiting Curlie at the depot. Filled with an eager desire to +know what was to be the nature of this new adventure, he could wait +scarcely long enough to buy tickets, reserve sleeper berths, and to +board the train before demanding full details.</p> + +<p>The train was a trifle slow in pulling out. As he outlined the situation +to Joe, Curlie kept an eye out of the window. Once he caught sight of a +slight girlish figure which seemed familiar. He could not be sure, so +heavily veiled was her face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span></p> + +<p>He had quite forgotten the incident when, a few hours later, he entered +the diner for his evening lunch. What then was his surprise, on +entering, to see Gladys Ardmore calmly seated at a table and nibbling at +a bun.</p> + +<p>She motioned him to a seat opposite her.</p> + +<p>"You didn't expect to have me for a fellow-passenger, did you?" she +smiled.</p> + +<p>Curlie shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Well, I didn't expect to go until the last moment. Then the professor +came with the translation of the writing on the map all written out. +Father thought you should have it, so he sent me with it. I arrived just +in time and decided all at once that I ought to—Oh, that I wanted—that +I <i>must</i> go with you." There was a pathetic catch in her voice that went +straight to Curlie's heart.</p> + +<p>"After all," he told himself, "he's her brother and that means a lot."</p> + +<p>When he looked at her the next moment he discovered there the strangely +determined look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> which was so like her father's, and which he had seen +once before on her face.</p> + +<p>"Here is the translation," she said simply as she passed over a roll of +paper. "Order your dinner; we will have plenty of time to look over the +papers later."</p> + +<p>"She's a most determined and composed little piece of humanity," was +Curlie's mental comment. "I don't like her following me, but since she's +here I suppose I better make the best of it!"</p> + +<p>Had he known how far she would follow him and what adventures she was +destined to share with him, he might have been tempted to wire her +father to call her back. Since he did not know, he ordered meat-pie, +French fried potatoes, English tea biscuits, cocoa and apple pie, then +settled himself down to talk of trivial matters until the meal was over.</p> + +<p>When at last he saw the waiter remove the girl's finger bowl, Curlie put +out his hand for the paper. The hand trembled a trifle. Truth was, he +was more eager than he was willing to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span> admit to read the French +teacher's translation of the writing on the back of the map.</p> + +<p>Now as he held it in his hand one question came to the forefront in his +mind: Was this photograph a reproduction of the map that had looked so +much like it, the one in the great volume at the library? The +translation would dear up that point.</p> + +<p>But then it might not be, he reasoned. The book said that the original +of this map had belonged to an English lord something like a hundred +years ago; that it had disappeared and nothing had been heard of it +since.</p> + +<p>"The professor said," smiled the girl, a trifle anxiously, "that the +writing was in very, very old Spanish and for that reason he might not +have understood every word of it correctly but that taking it all in all +he thought he had made the meaning clear."</p> + +<p>"We'll have a look," said Curlie, unfolding the paper.</p> + +<p>"He said it was the photograph of a very unusual manuscript, rare and +valuable." There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> was something about the way the girl said this which +led Curlie to guess that she might know who was in possession of the +original. He was, however, too much excited over the first lines of the +translation to ask her any questions.</p> + +<p>"The Island of Lagos." He read the title to himself. Beneath this in +brackets were the words:</p> + +<p>"Being the account of how the good ship Torence was cast ashore on an +unknown island in the midst of the great sea; an island whereon there +are many barbarians having much gold."</p> + +<p>Curlie caught his breath. Save for one word the translation was the same +as that he had read in the book. That word was of no consequence.</p> + +<p>"It's the same map!" he told himself. "The very same!"</p> + +<p>The girl, leaning over the table, watched him eagerly. She was both +excited and elated over the find.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it wonderful?" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. "I think it's +great! And to think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> that my brother and his chum were the ones who +found it!"</p> + +<p>"Haven't read it all," Curlie mumbled.</p> + +<p>"Then read on. Read it all. Please do."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2><h3>"MANY BARBARIANS AND MUCH GOLD"</h3> +</div> + +<p>Curlie, obeying her instructions, read on and with every line his +conviction grew stronger that the conclusions he had come to were well +formed.</p> + +<p>This is what he read:</p> + +<p>"Having spent Good Friday with his family, our captain, deeming further +delay but loss of time, determined to cast anchor and sail for the coast +of Ireland. Here he hoped to do a brisk business at barter with the +peasants and fisher-folk who inhabit the shores.</p> + +<p>"But Providence had determined otherwise. Hardly had we been from shore +a half day's journey, when, without warning, from out the night there +rose a great tumult. This tumult, coming as it did from the shore, +grasped us in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> its mighty arms and hurled us league by league in +directions that we would not go. And being exceedingly tossed with the +tempest we lightened the ship. On the fourth day we, with our own hand, +cast out the tackle of the ship. And when not sun nor moon nor stars had +appeared for many days, we counted ourselves for lost; for, having been +carried straight away these many days, we expected nothing but that we +would come soon to that dark and dreadful place which is the end of all +land and all seas."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it wonderful?" whispered the girl.</p> + +<p>Curlie was too much absorbed to answer her.</p> + +<p>"When we had given up all hope," he read on, "Markus Laplone, a very old +seaman, said we were nearing some land.</p> + +<p>"We took soundings and found it forty fathoms. Then again it was thirty. +Then with hopeful hearts we looked for that land. But when at last it +broke through the fog it was no land that any of the men had seen, no, +not the oldest seaman.</p> + +<p>"But fearing to be cast upon rocks, we kept<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> a good watch that we might +find some harbor. At last we were rewarded, for to the right of us there +was a river flowing into the sea.</p> + +<p>"The storm having somewhat abated, we took oars, such as had not been +broken by the storm, and some with two men to the oar and some with but +one, we made shift to enter this river; having accomplished which, we +dropped anchor and gave thanks to God for the preservation of our lives.</p> + +<p>"Now, on coming on shore we found this to be indeed a strange land. Not +alone were the trees and all vegetation of a sort unknown to us, but the +barbarians who came about us were of a complexion such as not one man of +us had ever before beheld.</p> + +<p>"And, what was more astounding, as we made a fire to cook us food, there +passed by us bearing on their backs strangely woven baskets, a caravan +of these half-naked barbarians. And, when we motioned to show them we +would see within his basket, one of these lowered his basket.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span></p> + +<p>"What we saw astounded us much, for it was all filled with finely-beaten +gold. The fellow had as much of it as a stout sailor would be able to +carry. And there were many such baskets.</p> + +<p>"When I made as though I would take the gold, he became very angry, and +would have struck me down with an ugly spear which he bore.</p> + +<p>"But when I laughed, making as though it were a joke, he gave me a small +piece, the which is at this time in my possession, as proof that what I +have written here is truth and no lie.</p> + +<p>"Now this island I have shown on the map, the nether side upon which I +am writing, as a star with six points to it; though the shore marking +nor the extent of the island is as yet unknown to any but those +barbarians who live upon it."</p> + +<p>There ended the main portion of the story, but in a bracket at the +bottom was written:</p> + +<p>"In some other place will be found the account<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span> of our miraculous return +from this strange and mysterious island of many barbarians and much +gold."</p> + +<p>As Curlie finished, he glanced up with a sigh.</p> + +<p>The girl was staring at him so intently that he could not but think she +was attempting to read his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it wonderful?" she breathed at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Curlie quickly, "you expressed it even better before. It's +great!"</p> + +<p>He looked away. His head was in a whirl It was the long-lost map; he was +sure of that now. He remembered the figures he had copied from that +other reproduction. They were blurred and unreadable on this one. Should +he tell her?</p> + +<p>His lips opened but no sound came out. No, he would not tell her, not at +this time. There might be some other way.</p> + +<p>"Your brother and his chum," he said evenly, "have gone in search of +that island of gold."</p> + +<p>She stared at him in silence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span></p> + +<p>"If they haven't gone already, they may be gone before we reach the +coast," he continued. "They will probably go in Alfred Brightwood's +seaplane."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," she broke her spell of silence. "That is the way they would +go. It's—it's a wonderful plane! You—you don't think anything could +happen to them, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Supposing they do not find the island?"</p> + +<p>"But they will."</p> + +<p>"It is to be hoped that they will find an island—some island."</p> + +<p>"It's a wonderful plane. It would cross the Atlantic!" She clasped and +unclasped her hands.</p> + +<p>"But supposing," he rose from his chair in his excitement, "supposing +they don't find the island exactly where they expect to find it? +Supposing, in their eagerness to find that gold, they circle and circle +and circle in search of the island until there is no longer any gas in +the tank to bring them home."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't think that!" She sprang to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> her feet and, gripping his +arm to steady herself, looked up into his eyes. There was a +heartbreaking appeal in those blue eyes of hers.</p> + +<p>"I think," said Curlie steadily, "that my pal, Joe Marion, and I, if we +find them gone when we get there, will take your father's speedy yacht +and go for a little pleasure trip in the general direction they have +taken. Then if they chance to get into trouble, we can give them a lift. +Besides," there came a twinkle in his eye, which was wholly lost on the +girl, "they might need the yacht to carry home the gold."</p> + +<p>"Oh, will you?" she exclaimed, gripping his arm until it hurt. "That +will be grand of you. For you know," she faltered, "I—I feel a little +bit responsible for what they have done and if anything should happen I +could never forgive myself. I—I'll tell you about it some time."</p> + +<p>For a moment they stood there in silence, she steadying herself from the +rock of the train by clinging to his arm.</p> + +<p>"I think," she said soberly, "if you go in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> father's yacht, that I shall +go along with you."</p> + +<p>"And I think," said Curlie in a decided tone, "that you won't."</p> + +<p>She said not another word but had he taken a look at her face just then +he would have found there the expression that he had seen there before, +the expression which she had inherited from her father, the self-made +millionaire.</p> + +<p>That night in his berth, as the train rushed along on its eastward +journey, Curlie narrated to Joe Marion all the events which had led up +to the present moment, and as much of his conclusions as he had told to +Gladys Ardmore.</p> + +<p>"So you see, Joe, old boy," he concluded, "if those young millionaires +are away before we arrive we're destined to take a little trip which may +have an adventure or two in it; that is, at least I will."</p> + +<p>"Count me in," said Joe soberly. "I go anywhere you do."</p> + +<p>"Good!" exclaimed Curlie, gripping his hand. "And in the end," he +concluded, "I think we shall have told the world in a rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> effective +way that the air must be free for the important messages; that Uncle Sam +has the right of way in the air as well as on land or sea and that he +has ways of defending those rights."</p> + +<p>At that they turned over, to lie there listening to the click-click of +wheels over rails until sleep claimed them.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2><h3>OUT TO SEA IN A COCKLESHELL</h3> +</div> + +<p>Darkness was falling when at last Curlie and Joe reached the station at +Landensport. In spite of the fact that they had had no supper and were +weary from travel, Curlie insisted on going at once to the hangar where +the <i>Stormy Petrel</i>, Alfred Brightwood's seaplane, was kept.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the keeper of the hangar, "they hopped off six hours ago. +Seemed to be preparing for somethin' of a journey; they filled the tanks +with gas and loaded her cabin full of things to eat. Some sort of a +picnic, I reckon. Strange part of it was," he said reflectively, "I +watched 'em as they went and sure's I'm standin' here they shot out to +sea, straight as an arrow, and far as you could see 'em they was going +right on. Couldn't be tryin' to cross the Atlantic, but you can never +tell what'll get into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> that Brightwood boy's head. He's darin', he is. +Jest some picnic, though, I reckon."</p> + +<p>"Some picnic all right!" said Curlie emphatically. "Some picnic for all +of us!"</p> + +<p>"Eh? What?" the keeper turned on him quickly.</p> + +<p>Curlie did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Vincent Ardmore went with him, I suppose," Curlie said after a moment's +silence.</p> + +<p>"Of course. Just them two."</p> + +<p>"Was the plane equipped with wireless?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. They spent two days tending to that; seemed to be mighty +particular about it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course they would."</p> + +<p>"Eh? What?" the man turned sharply about.</p> + +<p>Curlie was silent again.</p> + +<p>"It's funny about them wireless rigs for a plane," said the keeper at +last. "You git your ground by hanging a wire seventy-five er a hundred +feet down from the plane, then you get ground just the same as if the +wire was dragging through the sea, don't matter whether<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span> you're up a +hundred miles or five thousand. Strange stuff, this radio."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Curlie, "it is. By the way," he exclaimed suddenly, "do you +know about this new Packard-Prentiss equipment?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; was tryin' one out only yesterday. Fine thing."</p> + +<p>"Reliable?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely."</p> + +<p>"Know where I can get one?"</p> + +<p>"Over at Dorrotey's sea-goods store on the dock. He's got one er two for +sale."</p> + +<p>"Thanks." He and Joe started away.</p> + +<p>"Next place is Dock No. 3. The <i>Kittlewake</i>, the Ardmore yacht, is tied +up over there. Unless I miss my guess we'll be off to sea in less than +two hours," said Curlie to Joe. "Speed's the word now. Those two young +dreamers have gotten away by plane. We've got to stand by in the +<i>Kittlewake</i> or they'll never be seen again. I don't propose to allow +the sea to rob me of my first important offender against the laws of the +air."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span></p> + +<p>"By the way," said Joe, "where is Gladys Ardmore? I haven't seen her +since we left New York."</p> + +<p>"I don't know and I'm glad I don't," said Curlie. "She let fall a remark +in the dining car that I didn't like. She said she thought she'd go +along with us on this trip. A five hundred mile trip straight out to sea +in a fifty-foot pleasure yacht with a fifteen-foot beam, is no sort of +trip for a girl. I was afraid she'd try to insist. That would have +caused a scene, for unless I miss my guess she's the determined sort +like her father."</p> + +<p>"It's queer she gave us up so quickly."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I'm glad she did."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Curlie started. As they rounded a corner he caught sight of a +trim, slender figure. This girl had been standing in the light of a shop +window. Now she dodged inside.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" he grunted. "Thought that looked like her, but of course it +couldn't be. Some ship captain's daughter probably."</p> + +<p>They arrived on board the <i>Kittlewake</i> just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> as the captain, a red-faced +old British salt, and the engineer, a silent man who was fully as slim +and wiry of build as Curlie himself, were finishing lunch.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," said Curlie, "but did you get Mr. Ardmore's wire?"</p> + +<p>"You're this wireless man, Curlie Carson?" asked the captain.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"'Is message is 'ere; came this morning."</p> + +<p>"Then you're ready to put off at once."</p> + +<p>"At once!" The captain stared his amazement. "'Ere it is night. At once, +'e says!"</p> + +<p>"It's very necessary that we go at once," said Curlie firmly, "and I +believe you have your orders."</p> + +<p>"To be hat your service in hevery particular."</p> + +<p>"All right then, we must be on our way in an hour."</p> + +<p>"Wot course?" The skipper rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"This is the point we must reach with all speed," said Curlie, drawing +the photograph of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> the mysterious old map from his pocket and pointing +to the star near the center. "Compare that with your own chart, locate +it as well as you can and then mark out your own course."</p> + +<p>The skipper stared at him as though he thought Curlie crazy.</p> + +<p>"That! Why that—"</p> + +<p>Turning quickly, he disappeared up the hatch, to return presently with a +chart. This he placed upon the table, beside the photograph.</p> + +<p>After five minutes of close study he turned an astonished face upon the +boy.</p> + +<p>"That, as I 'ave thought, is five 'undred miles hout to sea. Five +'undred miles in a cockleshell. Man, you're daft."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Curlie; "the trip's got to be made. I thought you +might be afraid to undertake it; that's why I wanted to know at once. +I'll go out and hunt another skipper. There's surely plenty of them idle +these dull times."</p> + +<p>"Hafraid, did 'e say! Me! Hafraid!" The skipper was purple with rage. +"Hafraid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span> 'e says. 'E says it, a bloomin' Yankee kid, an' me as 'as 'ad +ships sunk under me twice by the bloody German submarines! Me, Captain +Jarvis, hafraid."</p> + +<p>He turned suddenly upon Curlie. "Go git yer togs an' shake a leg er the +bloomin' <i>Kittlewake</i>'ll be off without you on board."</p> + +<p>"That's the talk!" smiled Curlie. "Never fear! We'll be here."</p> + +<p>He turned to Joe. "You go ashore and buy us each a suit of roughing-it +things, a so'-wester and the like. We'll need 'em. I'll be back in less +than an hour."</p> + +<p>When Curlie returned from his mission ashore he carried but one bundle. +That resembled a fencepost in size and shape. It was carefully wrapped +and sealed in sticky black tar cloth.</p> + +<p>"Going to throw a message overboard in case we're lost, I suppose," +laughed Joe.</p> + +<p>"Something like that," Curlie laughed back. Nevertheless, he carried the +thing with great care to his stateroom and deposited it beneath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> his +berth in the cabin forward on the main deck.</p> + +<p>An hour later the two boys were standing on deck watching the shore +lights fade. Each was busy with his own thoughts and wondering, no +doubt, in his own way how much of adventure this trip held for him.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2><h3>A GHOST WALKS</h3> +</div> + +<p>"Ever take much interest in gasoline engines?" Curlie suddenly inquired +of Joe.</p> + +<p>"Yes, quite a bit; had a shift on one of those marine kinds last summer +on the Great Lakes."</p> + +<p>"Good! You'll have to take a shift here on the <i>Kittlewake</i>. This trip +can't be made without sleep. I'll spell the captain at the wheel and you +can relieve that lanky engineer."</p> + +<p>Again they lapsed into silence. Half unconsciously each boy was taking +stock of the craft they had requisitioned, trying to judge whether or +not she was equal to the task she had been put to. Speed she had in +plenty. "Do forty knots a 'our," the skipper put it, "an' never 'eat a +bearin'."</p> + +<p>She was a trim craft. Narrow of beam, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span> two-master with a steel hull +that stood well out of the water forward, she rode the water with the +repose and high glee of the bird she was named after.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she's a beauty, and a go-getter," Curlie was thinking to himself, +"but in a storm, now, four or five hundred miles from land, what then?"</p> + +<p>Had he known how soon his question was to be answered he might well have +shuddered.</p> + +<p>"Better go down and have a look at the engines before you turn in for a +wink of sleep," he told Joe.</p> + +<p>When Joe had gone below, Curlie still sat there on the rail aft. The +throb of the engines beneath him, the rapid rush of air that fanned his +cheek, was medicine to his weary brain. He had been caught in a +whirlwind of events and here, for a time, he had been cast down in a +quiet place where his mind might clear itself of the wreckage of thought +that had been torn up and strewn about within it.</p> + +<p>It had been a wild race. He had lost thus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> far; would he lose in the +end? Had he, after all, trusted too much to theory? Had these two sons +of rich men really only gone for some picnic trip to a well-known island +farther south along the coast? Or had they, as he had assumed, guided by +their ancient map, gone in search of the island of "many barbarians and +much gold," an island which he was convinced existed only in name?</p> + +<p>The girl, too; what had she meant when she said she was in some ways +responsible for her brother's actions? There was something queer about +the whole affair. Who had taken the wireless equipment from the wrecked +car out there by the Forest Preserve? Did young Ardmore have the ancient +original of that interesting map or only the photograph? If he did not +have it, who was in possession of it? Strange thing that it would be +lost for a hundred years only to have a brand-new photograph of it show +up all at once. Rather ghostly, he thought. He had meant to ask Gladys +Ardmore about that. He'd ask her now if she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> were here. But he was more +than glad she was not here.</p> + +<p>"No trip for a girl," he told himself, "and she said she'd go. Strange +she gave it up so easily. Strange that—"</p> + +<p>His thoughts broke off suddenly as he stared forward. The <i>Kittlewake</i> +was equipped with three cabins; a forecastle and aftercabin, both below +the main deck, built largely for stormy weather, and a fair-weather +cabin in the center of the main deck. The night was dark, the moon not +having come up. It was difficult to distinguish objects at a distance, +but, unless his eyes deceived him, Curlie saw some object, all white and +ghostly, rising slowly from the hatchway leading to the forecastle. Cold +perspiration sprang out upon his brow, his heart beat madly, his knees +trembled as he involuntarily moved forward. That was the way he had of +treating ghosts; he walked straight at them.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, had one been on some craft three hundred miles farther +on in the direct course of the <i>Kittlewake</i>, he might have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span> caught the +thunderous drumming of two powerful Liberty motors. He might also have +seen a spot of light playing constantly upon the black waters. While +this light was constant, it moved rapidly forward in a wide circle. The +circle was never the same in size or location, yet the spot of light did +not move more than twenty miles in any direction from a certain given +center. The spot of illumination came from a powerful searchlight +mounted upon a seaplane. It was manipulated by a boy in the rear seat. A +second boy drove the plane. These boys, as you have no doubt long since +guessed, were Vincent Ardmore and his reckless pal, Alfred Brightwood.</p> + +<p>This light had been playing upon the water since darkness had fallen, +some three hours before. They had been circling for four hours. Their +hopes of completing their search before dark had been thwarted by a +defective engine which had compelled them to make a landing upon the sea +when the journey was only half completed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span></p> + +<p>At this particular moment the plane was climbing steadily. It was a +perfect "man-bird" of the air, was this <i>Stormy Petrel</i>. With broad +spreading planes and powerful motors, it was the type of plane that now +and again hops off from some point in England during the dewy morning +hours and carries her crew safely to Cuba without a single stop.</p> + +<p>Yet these boys were not planning a trip across to Europe. They were, as +Curlie had supposed they might be, hunting for the island of "many +barbarians and much gold."</p> + +<p>When they had mounted to a considerable height, Alfred shut off the +engines and allowed her to volplane toward the sea.</p> + +<p>"Aw, let's give it up and get back," said Vincent downheartedly. "It's +not here. Probably that old map-maker made a mistake of a trifling +hundred miles or so."</p> + +<p>"That's a grand idea!" exclaimed Brightwood, grasping at a straw. "Not a +hundred miles but perhaps thirty or forty miles. Old boy, we'll be +cooking lunch on a stove of pure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> gold in half an hour. You'll see! Just +get your light fixed right and I'll take a wider circle. That'll get +it."</p> + +<p>"But if we use up much more gas we won't get back to land," hesitated +Vincent.</p> + +<p>"Land! Who wants to get back to land!" the other exploded. "If worst +comes to worst we've got the wireless, haven't we? We can light on the +water and send out an S. O. S., can't we? I must say you're a mighty bum +sailor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right," said Vincent, stung into silence, "go ahead and try +it."</p> + +<p>Again the motors thundered. Again the spot light traced a circular path +across the dark waters, which to the boy who held the light, appeared to +be reaching up black, fiendish hands to drag them down. This time the +circle they cut was many miles in circumference, miles which drew deeply +from the supply of gasoline in their tanks.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2><h3>THE COMING STORM</h3> +</div> + +<p>As Curlie's feet carried him forward on the deck of the <i>Kittlewake</i>, +his eyes beheld the ghost which rose from the hatch taking on a familiar +form. A white middy blouse, short white skirt and a white tarn, worn by +a slender girl, moved forward to meet him. As the form came into the +square of light cast by a cabin window, his lips framed her name:</p> + +<p>"Gladys Ardmore!"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," she smiled, "didn't you expect me? I told you I thought I'd +go."</p> + +<p>"And I said you should not." Her coolness angered him.</p> + +<p>"You forget that this is my father's boat. A man's daughter should +always be a welcome guest on his boat."</p> + +<p>"But—but that's not it," he hesitated. "This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span> is not a pleasure trip. +We are going five hundred miles straight to sea in a boat intended for +shore travel. It's likely to storm." He sniffed the air and held his +cheek to the breeze that was already breaking the water into little +choppy waves. "It is going to be dangerous."</p> + +<p>"But you are going," she said soberly, "to the assistance of my brother. +I have a better right than you to risk my life to save my own brother. I +can be of assistance to you. Truly, I can. I can be the galley cook."</p> + +<p>"You a cook?" He looked his surprise.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Do you think a rich man's daughter can do nothing but play +tennis and pour tea? Those times are gone, if indeed they ever existed. +I am as able to do things as is your sister, if you have one."</p> + +<p>"But," said Curlie suddenly, "I am going from a sense of duty. Having +set out to have your brother arrested I mean to do it."</p> + +<p>For a full moment she stared at him stupefied. Then she said slowly, +through set, white lips: "You wouldn't do that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I?" His tone was more gentle. "He has broken the laws of +the air. Time and again he sent messages on 600, a radio wave length +reserved to coast and ship service alone. He has hindered sea traffic +and once narrowly escaped being the death of brave men at sea."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she breathed, sinking down upon a coil of cable, "I—didn't know +it was as bad as that. And I—I—knew all about it. I—I—"</p> + +<p>She did not finish but sat there staring at him. At last she spoke +again. Her tone was strained and husky with emotion.</p> + +<p>"You—you'll want to arrest me too when you know the truth."</p> + +<p>"You'll not be dragged into it unless you insist."</p> + +<p>"But I do insist!" She sprang to her feet. Her nails digging into her +clenched fists, she faced him. Her eyes were bright and terrible.</p> + +<p>"Do you think," she fairly screamed, "that I would be part of a thing +that was wrong, whether I knew it or not at the time, and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span> when +trouble came from it, do you think that I would sneak out of it and +allow someone else to suffer for it? Do you think I'd sneak out of it +because anyone would let me—because I am a girl?"</p> + +<p>Completely at a loss to know what to do upon this turn of events, Curlie +stood there staring back at the girl.</p> + +<p>She at last sank back upon her seat. Curlie took three turns around the +deck. At last he approached her with a steady step.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ardmore," he said, taking off his cap, "I apologize. I—I really +didn't know that a girl could be that kind of a real sport."</p> + +<p>Before she could answer he hurried on: "For the time being we can let +the matter we were just speaking of rest. Matters far more important +than the vindicating of the law, important as that always is, are before +us. Your brother and his friend, unless I am mistaken, are in grave +danger. We may be able to save them; we may not. We can but try and this +trial requires all our wisdom and strength.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span></p> + +<p>"More than that," he again held his face to the stiffening gale, "we +ourselves are in considerable danger. Whether this 'cockleshell,' as the +skipper calls her, can weather a severe storm on the open sea, is a +question. That question is to be answered within a few hours. We're in +for a blow. We're too far on our way to retreat if we wished to. We must +weather it. You can be of assistance to us as you suggest, and more than +that, you can help us by being brave, fearless and hopeful. May we count +on you?"</p> + +<p>There was a cold, brave smile on the girl's face as she answered:</p> + +<p>"You know my father. He has never yet been beaten. I am his child."</p> + +<p>Then suddenly, casting all reserve aside, she gripped his arm and +bestowing a warm smile upon him said almost in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"Curlie Carson, I like you. You're real, the realest person I ever +knew." Then turning swiftly about, she danced along the deck, to +disappear down the hatch to the forecastle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span></p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Curlie, after a moment's thought, "I never could make out +what girls are like. But one thing I'm sure of: that one will drown or +starve or freeze when necessity demands it, without a murmur. You can +count on her!"</p> + +<p>Throwing a swift glance to where a thick bank of clouds was painting the +night sky the color of blue-black ink, he hurried below to consult with +the skipper about the weather. They were, he concluded, some three +hundred and fifty miles out to sea. If this storm meant grave dangers to +them, what must it mean to two boys in a seaplane skimming through the +air over the sea? He shivered at the thought.</p> + +<p>Fifteen minutes later, Curlie was in the small wireless cabin of the +<i>Kittlewake</i>. With a receiver clamped over his head, with a motor +purring at his feet and with the hum of wires and coils all about him, +he felt more at ease and at home than he had been for many hours.</p> + +<p>His talk with the skipper had confirmed his fears; they were in for a +blow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span></p> + +<p>"A nor'-easter, sir," he had affirmed, "an' one you'll remember for many +a day. Oh! we'll weather 'er, sir; somehow we'll 'ave to weather 'er. +With the millionaire heiress aboard we'll 'ave to, worse luck for it. +We'll 'ammer down the 'atches an' let 'er ride if we 'ave to but it's a +jolly 'ard shaking habout we'll get, sir. But she's a 'arty, +clean-hulled little boat, she is, an' she'll ride 'er some'ow."</p> + +<p>After receiving this information, Curlie had gone directly to the +wireless cabin. He was more anxious than he was willing to admit for the +safety of his two charges, the millionaire's children; for Curlie did +think of them as his charges. He was used to taking burdens on his own +shoulders. It had always been his way.</p> + +<p>Just now he was listening in on 600, ready to pick up any message which +might come from the boys on the seaplane. That the <i>Stormy Petrel</i> was a +doomed aircraft he had not the least doubt. The only question which +remained in his mind was whether the <i>Kittlewake</i> or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span> some other craft +would reach her in time to save the two reckless boys.</p> + +<p>Now and again as he listened he picked up a message from shore. The +center of the storm, which was fast approaching, was to the east, off +shore. Messages coming from the storm's direction would be greatly +disturbed by static. But to the west the air was still clear.</p> + +<p>Now he heard a ship off Long Island Sound speaking for a pilot; now some +shore station at Boston assigned to some ship a harbor space; and now +some powerful broadcasting station sent out to all the world a warning +against the rising storm.</p> + +<p>Tiring of all this, for a time he tuned his instrument to 200.</p> + +<p>"Be interesting to see how far short wave lengths and high power will +carry," was his mental comment.</p> + +<p>Now he caught a faint echo of a song; now a note of laughter; and now +the serious tones of some man speaking with his homefolks.</p> + +<p>But what was this? He fancied he caught a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> familiar whisper. Adjusting +his wires, adding all the amplifying power his instruments possessed, he +listened eagerly; then, to his astonishment heard his own nickname +spoken.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Curlie," came to him distinctly. Then, "Are you there? You +remember that big bad man, the one who used heaps of power on 1200? +Well, he's gone north—very far north. You'd want to follow him, Curlie, +if you knew what I know. The radiophone is going to do great things for +the north, Curlie. But men like him will spoil it all. Remember this, +Curlie: If you do go, be careful. Careful. He's a bad man and the stakes +are big!" The whisper ceased. The silence that followed it was ghostly.</p> + +<p>"And that," Curlie whispered softly, "came all the way from my dear old +home town. She thought I was still in the secret tower room. Fine chance +of my following that fellow up north. But when I get back I'll +investigate. There may be something big there, just as she says there +is. Yes, I'll look into it when I get back—if I do get back."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span></p> + +<p>He shivered as he caught the howl of the wind in the rigging. Then, +tuning his instrument back to 600, he listened once more for some +message from the seaplane, the <i>Stormy Petrel</i>.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2><h3>S. O. S.</h3> +</div> + +<p>The spot of light which raced across the waters of the sea where no land +was to be seen, where the black surface of the swiftly changing waters +shone always beneath the occupants of the seaplane, took on an ever +widening circle. There appeared to be no end to Alfred Brightwood's +belief that somewhere in the midst of all this waste of waters there was +an island.</p> + +<p>Vincent Ardmore had long since given up hope of becoming rich by this +mad adventure. His only hope, the one that gave strength to his arms +benumbed by long clinging to the flashlight and new sight to his eyes, +weary with watching, was that they might discover some bit of land, a +coral island, perhaps, where they might find refuge from the sea until a +craft, called to their aid, might rescue them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span></p> + +<p>The thought of returning to the mainland he had all but abandoned. The +gas in the tank was too low for that; at least he was quite certain it +must be.</p> + +<p>There was a chance, of course, that if they alighted upon the water and +sent out an S. O. S., the international call for aid, they would be +answered by some near-by ship. But this seemed only a remote +possibility. He dared not hope it would happen. They were far from any +regular course of trans-Atlantic vessels and too far from shore to be +picked up by a coast vessel or a fishing smack. The very fact that this +island, marked so plainly on the ancient map, had been in this +particular spot, so remote from the main sea-roads, had strengthened +their belief that during all the centuries of travel it had been lost +from man's memory and hidden from his view. Now this very isolation, +since they were unable to locate this island, if indeed it existed at +all, threatened to be their undoing.</p> + +<p>Still they circled and circled with great, untiring sweeps. At last, +releasing the searchlight,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> Vincent put his lips to a speaking tube.</p> + +<p>"Let's light," he grumbled. "I'm dead. What's the use?"</p> + +<p>"What else can we do but keep looking?" Alfred answered.</p> + +<p>"Take a look at the gas. Maybe it will carry us back."</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke, a strange thing happened. The air appeared suddenly to +have dropped from beneath the plane. Straight down for fifty feet she +dropped.</p> + +<p>With the utmost difficulty Alfred succeeded in preventing her from +taking a nose dive into the sea.</p> + +<p>"She—she bumped," he managed to pant at last. "Something the matter +with the air."</p> + +<p>And indeed there was something about the atmospheric conditions which +they had not sensed. Busy as they had been they had not seen the black +bank of clouds to the northeast of them. With the wild rush of air from +sheer speed, they had not felt the increasing strength of the gale. Once +Vincent had fancied that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> the sea, far beneath them, seemed disturbed, +but so far beneath them was it that he could not tell.</p> + +<p>Now in surprise and consternation, as if to steady his reeling brain, he +gripped the fuselage beside him while he shrilled into the tube:</p> + +<p>"Look! Look over there! Lightning!"</p> + +<p>"Watch out, I'm going down," warned the other boy. "Going to light."</p> + +<p>To do this was no easy task. Three times they swooped low, to skim along +just over the crest of the waves, only to tilt upward again.</p> + +<p>"Looks bad," grumbled the young pilot.</p> + +<p>The fourth time, he dared it. With the spray spattering his goggles, he +sent the plane right into the midst of it. For a second it seemed that +nothing could save them, that the wave they had nose-dived into would +throw their plane end for end and land her on her back, with her two +occupants hopeless prisoners strapped head down to drown beneath her.</p> + +<p>But at last the powerful motors conquered and, tossed by the ever +increasing swells, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> plane rode the sea like the stormy petrel after +which she had been named.</p> + +<p>"Quick!" exclaimed Alfred as the motors ceased to throb. "Strip off your +harness and get back to the tank."</p> + +<p>A moment later Vincent was making a perilous journey to the gas tank. +Twice the wind all but swept him into the sea; once a wave drenched him +with its chilling waters. When at last he reached his destination it was +only to utter a groan; more gas had been used than he had dared think.</p> + +<p>"Can't—can't make it," he mumbled as he struggled back to his place.</p> + +<p>"Have to send out an S. O. S. then. What wave length do you use?</p> + +<p>"You ought to know," exclaimed Vincent almost savagely. "You were the +one who insisted on using it when we were making up our plans."</p> + +<p>"Six hundred? Oh, yes," Alfred said indifferently. "Well, what of it?"</p> + +<p>"Just this much of it," said Vincent thoughtfully.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> "I've been going +over and over it in my mind the last little while. What if we send out +our S. O. S. now and some selfish landlubber such as we were is talking +about matters of little importance and muddles our message? We might be +left to drown."</p> + +<p>"Aw, can that sob stuff," grumbled Alfred angrily. "Are you going to +send that S. O. S. or am I?"</p> + +<p>"I will," said Vincent, preparing to climb to a position on the plane +above him where the radiophone was located. "But"—he suddenly began to +sway dizzily—"but where are we?"</p> + +<p>He sank back into his seat. For a full moment, with the waves tossing +the plane about and the black clouds mounting higher and higher, the two +boys stared at one another in silence. Yes, where were they? Who could +tell? They were not trained mariners. They could not have taken a +reckoning even had they been in possession of the needed instruments.</p> + +<p>"Why," said Alfred hesitatingly, "we must be somewhere near that spot +where the island<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> was supposed to be located. That's as near as we can +come to it. Send out that latitude and longitude; then we'll climb back +into the air. We'll be safer there than on the water and we can keep the +searchlight shooting out flashes in all directions. A ship coming to our +aid will see the light."</p> + +<p>"If they come," Vincent whispered.</p> + +<p>"Hurry!" exclaimed Alfred, as a giant wave, rising above its mates, +threatened to tear their plane into shreds.</p> + +<p>With benumbed and trembling fingers the boy unwrapped his instruments, +adjusted a coil, twisted a knob and threw in his switch. Then his heart +stood still. The motor did not start. Had it been dampened and +short-circuited? Would it refuse to go? Were they already lost?</p> + +<p>Just as he was giving up in despair, there came a humming sound and a +moment later the well-known signal of distress had been flashed out +across the waves. Three times he repeated it. Three times in a few sharp +words he told their general location and their plight. Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> with wildly +beating heart, he pressed the receivers to his ears and awaited a reply.</p> + +<p>A moment passed, two, three, four; but there came no answering call. +Only the buzz and snap of the ever-increasing static greeted his +straining ears.</p> + +<p>Once more he sent out the message; again he listened. Still no response.</p> + +<p>"C'm'on," came from the boy below. "It's getting dangerous. You can get +a message off in the air. Gotta get out o' here. Gotta climb. May not be +able to make it even now."</p> + +<p>As the other boy glanced down at the white-capped waves all about them +he realized that his companion spoke the truth.</p> + +<p>Hurriedly rewrapping his instruments, all but the receivers, which by +the aid of an extension he brought down with him, he made his way to his +seat and strapped on his harness.</p> + +<p>"All right," he breathed.</p> + +<p>Once more the motors thundered. For a long distance they raced through +blinding spray. Little by little this diminished until with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> swoop, +like a sea gull, the magnificent plane shot upward. The next instant +they felt a dash of cold rain upon their cheeks. Was the storm upon +them? Or was this merely a warning dash which had reached them far in +advance of the deluge? For the moment they could not tell.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2><h3>A CONFESSION</h3> +</div> + +<p>For an hour Curlie Carson had been seated in the radiophone cabin of the +<i>Kittlewake</i>. During that time his delicately adjusted amplifier and his +wonderful ears had enabled him to pick up many weird and unusual +messages. Listening in at sea before a great storm is like wandering on +the beach after that same storm; you never can tell what you may pick +up. But though fragments of many messages had come to him, not one of +any importance to the <i>Kittlewake</i> had reached his ears. If during that +time any message from the <i>Stormy Petrel</i> had been sent out, it had been +lost in the crash and snap of static which now kept up a constant din in +his ears.</p> + +<p>Again doubt assailed him. He had no positive knowledge that the boys in +the plane had gone in search of that mysterious island of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span> old +chart. They might, for all he knew, be at this moment enjoying a rich +feast on some island off the coast of America.</p> + +<p>"Cuba, for instance," he told himself. "Not at all impossible. Short +trip for such a seaplane."</p> + +<p>"And here," he grumbled angrily to himself, "here I am risking my own +life and the life of my companions and crew, inviting death to all +these, and this on a mere conjecture. Guess I'm a fool."</p> + +<p>The gale was rising every moment. Even as he spoke the prow of the boat +reared in air, to come down with such an impact as made one believe she +had stepped on something solid.</p> + +<p>Just when Curlie's patience with himself and all the rest of the world +was exhausted, Joe Marion opened the door. The wind, boosting him across +the threshold, slammed the door after him.</p> + +<p>"Whew!" he sputtered. "Going to be rotten. Tell you what, I don't like +it. Dangerous, I'd say!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing's dangerous," smiled Curlie, greatly pleased to see that +someone at least was more disturbed than himself. "Nothing's really +dangerous since the invention of the radiophone. Ocean, desert, Arctic +wilderness; it's all the same. Sick, lost, shipwrecked? All you've got +to do is keep your head clear and your radiophone dry and tuned up. +It'll find you a way out."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but," hesitated Joe, "how the deuce you going to pack a radiophone +outfit, all those coils, batteries and boxes, when you're shipwrecked? +How you going to keep 'em dry with the rain pelting you from above and +the salt water beating at you from below? Lot of sense to that! Huh!" he +grunted contemptuously. "That for your radiophone!" He snapped his +finger. "And that for your old sloppy ocean! Give me a square yard of +good old terra firma and I'll get along without all your modern +inventions."</p> + +<p>"It can be done, though," said Curlie thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"What can?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span></p> + +<p>"Radiophone kept dry after a wreck at sea."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>Curlie did not answer the question. Instead, he snapped the receiver +from his head and handed it to Joe.</p> + +<p>"Take this and listen in." He rose stiffly. "This business is getting on +my nerves. I've got to get out for a breath of splendid fresh sea +breeze."</p> + +<p>"Nerves?" said Joe incredulously. "You got nerves?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes. Just now I have."</p> + +<p>On the deck Curlie experienced difficulty in walking. As he worked his +way forward he found that one moment his legs were far too long and his +foot came down with a suddenness that set his teeth chattering; the next +moment his legs had grown suddenly short. It was like stepping down +stairs in the dark and taking two steps at a time when you expected to +take but one.</p> + +<p>"Never saw such a rumpus on the sea," he grumbled. "Going to be worse," +he told himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> as a chain of lightning, leaping across the sky, +illumined the bank of black clouds that lay before them. "Going to be +lots worse."</p> + +<p>Poking his head into the wheel-house, he bellowed above the storm: +"How's she go?"</p> + +<p>"Seen worse'n 'er," the skipper shouted back.</p> + +<p>"Ought to be at the spot we started for in half an hour—that island on +the old chart."</p> + +<p>"Never was no island," the skipper roared.</p> + +<p>"Maybe not."</p> + +<p>"Supposin' we get there, what then?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know yet."</p> + +<p>The skipper stared at Curlie for a full moment as if attempting to +determine whether he were insane, then turned in silence to his wheel.</p> + +<p>The wind blew the door shut and Curlie resumed his long-legged, +short-legged march.</p> + +<p>He had done three turns around the deck when his eyes caught a small +figure crumpled up on the pile of ropes forward.</p> + +<p>"Hello," he cried, "you out here?"</p> + +<p>Gladys did not answer at once. She was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> straining her eyes as if to see +some object which might be hovering above the jagged, sea-swept skyline.</p> + +<p>"No," said Curlie, as if in answer to a question, "you couldn't see the +plane. You couldn't see it fifty fathoms away and then it would flash by +you like a carrier pigeon. No use if you did see it. Couldn't do +anything. But there's one chance in a million of their coming into our +line of vision, so it's no use watching. Only chance is a radiophone +message giving their location."</p> + +<p>"But I—I want to. I—I ought to do something." For the first time he +noticed how white and drawn her face was.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said in a quiet voice, "you just sit where you are and +I'll sit here beside you and you tell me one or two things. That will +help."</p> + +<p>"Tell—tell what?"</p> + +<p>"Tell me this: Did your brother have the original of that old map?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," her tone was already quieting down,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span> "yes, he did, or Alfred +Brightwood did. His father is very rich and he has a hobby of collecting +very old editions of books. He pays terrible prices for them. He bought +an old, old copy of 'Marco Polo's Travels'; paid fifteen thousand +dollars for it. And inside its cover Alfred found that old map with the +curious writing on the back of it.</p> + +<p>"He thought right away that it might hide some great secret, so he had +it photographed and sent the photo to Vincent. Vincent got a great +scholar to read the writing for him. He never told me what the writing +was; said that no one but he and Alfred should know; that it was a great +secret and that girls couldn't keep secrets, so I was not to know.</p> + +<p>"But they can keep secrets!" she exploded, breaking off from her +narrative. "They do keep secrets—more secrets than boys do. Wonderful +and terrible secrets sometimes!"</p> + +<p>"All right," smiled Curlie, "I agree with you, absolutely, but what did +they do then?"</p> + +<p>"Well," the girl pressed her temples as if to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> drive the thoughts of the +present from her. "They—why then Alfred called Vincent by radiophone on +600. Vincent was terribly afraid to answer on 600, but he did. And then, +because he thought the discovery of the map was so awfully important, he +rigged up a radiophone on his auto and I—I"—she buried her face in her +hands—"I helped him. I was with him in the car; drove while he sent the +messages, all but that last night, when the car was wrecked.</p> + +<p>"I—I know I shouldn't have done it. I knew all the time it was wrong, +but Alfred was stubborn and wouldn't talk on anything but 600—said he +had as much right on 600 as anyone else—so we did it."</p> + +<p>"And then the car was wrecked?" suggested Curlie. He felt a trifle mean +about making the girl tell, but he knew she would be more comfortable +once she got it out of her system. People are that way.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "someone shot his tire and wrecked his machine. I found +the car, first thing in the morning, and when I saw Vincent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> wasn't +there I got two big packing baskets that we once used in the Rockies and +put them on my horse. Then I went back and got all that radio stuff and +took it home and hid it. Do you think I did wrong?" The eyes she turned +to his were appealing ones.</p> + +<p>"Maybe you did," said Curlie huskily, "but that doesn't matter now; +you're paying for it all right—going to pay for it in full before this +voyage is over. The thing you must try to think of now is the present, +the little round present that is right here now. And you must try to be +brave."</p> + +<p>"And—and"—she said in a faltering voice—"do you think Vincent is +paying for what he did?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't be surprised."</p> + +<p>"Then you won't have to arrest him if he's already punished?" The +appealing eyes were again upon him.</p> + +<p>At that moment Curlie did a strange thing, so strange that the words +sounded preposterous to his own ears:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," he said slowly, "I won't, unless—unless he asks me to."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she breathed, "thank you." She placed her icy-cold hand on his for +a second.</p> + +<p>"You're freezing!" he exclaimed suddenly. "You'll be making yourself +sick. You must get inside!"</p> + +<p>"I'll go to the lounging cabin in mid-deck. The forecastle is so—so +lonesome," she stammered. "If you need me, you'll find me there."</p> + +<p>Feeling her way along the rail, she disappeared into the darkness.</p> + +<p>At almost the same moment there came the bellowing sound of a voice that +could be heard above the roar of the storm:</p> + +<p>"Curlie! Curlie! Come here! Something coming in. Can't make it out!"</p> + +<p>It was Joe Marion. Stumbling aft, now banging his feet down hard and now +treading on empty air, Curlie made his way to the radiophone cabin.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2><h3>A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT</h3> +</div> + +<p>"It's an S. O. S.," screamed Joe at the top of his voice, as Curlie came +hurrying up. "They sent that much in code and I got it all right. Then +they tried to tell me their troubles and all I got was a mumble and +grumble mixed with static, which meant nothing at all to me. Repeated it +three times. Very little space in between. Should have called you, I +guess, but there really wasn't time; besides I kept thinking I'd start +getting what he sent."</p> + +<p>"Where'd it come from?" Curlie asked as he snapped the receiver over his +head.</p> + +<p>"Straight out of the storm. Fifty or sixty miles northeast."</p> + +<p>Curlie groaned. "That's what I get for being impatient. Ought to have +stayed right here. It's those boys all right and we've missed them; may +never pick them up again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span></p> + +<p>For a time there was silence in the wireless cabin, such a silence as +one experiences in the midst of a rising storm. The flap of ropes, the +creak of yard-arms, the rush of waves which were already washing the +deck, the chug-chug-chug of the prow of the brave little craft as she +leaped from wave-crest to wave-crest; all this made such music as an +orchestra might, had every man musician of them gone mad. And this was +the "silence" Curlie did not for a long time break.</p> + +<p>"Well!" he shouted at last, "that settles one thing. I was right. They +did go in search of that mythical island."</p> + +<p>"You can't be sure," said Joe. "Might have been a fishing boat led off +her course by a chase after a whale. You never can tell."</p> + +<p>"No, that's right," Curlie agreed.</p> + +<p>"What makes you so sure the island on that map is mythical?" asked Joe.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't sound reasonable."</p> + +<p>"Lots of things don't. Take the radiophone; it wouldn't have sounded +reasonable a few years<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> ago. Lot of new things wouldn't. A new island is +discovered somewhere about every year. Why not around here?"</p> + +<p>"Anyway, I don't believe it," shouted Curlie.</p> + +<p>Yet, after all, as he thought of it now he found himself hoping against +hope that there was some such island. It wasn't the gold he was thinking +of, but a haven of refuge. This storm was going to be a bad one. He +fancied it was going to be one of the worst experienced on the Atlantic +for years. If only there were somewhere a sheltered nook into which this +cockleshell of a craft they were riding on might be driven, it would +bring him great relief. He thought a little of Joe, of the skipper and +the engineer, but he thought a great deal about the girl.</p> + +<p>"No place for a girl," he mumbled. "Perhaps," he tried to tell himself, +"there is an island, a very small island overlooked for centuries by +navigators; perhaps those boys have found it. Perhaps they were merely +sending out an S. O. S. to get someone to bring them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> gas to carry them +home. But rat!" he exploded, "I don't believe it. Don't—"</p> + +<p>He cut himself short to press the receivers tight against his ears. He +was getting something. Quickly he manipulated the coil of his radio +compass. Yes, it was an S. O. S.! And, yes, it was coming directly out +of the storm. But what was this they were saying? "Two boys—" He got +that much, but what was that? Strain his ears as he might, he could not +catch another word.</p> + +<p>But now—now he believed he was about to get it. Moving the coil +backward and forward he strained every muscle in his face in a mad +effort to understand. Yes, yes, that was it! Then, just as he was +getting it a terrible thing happened. There came a blinding flash of +light, accompanied by a rending, tearing, deafening crash. He felt +himself seized by some invisible power which wrenched every muscle, +twisted every joint in his body, then flung him limp and motionless to +the floor.</p> + +<p>When he came to himself, Joe and the girl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span> were bending over him. Joe +was tearing at the buttons of his shirt. The girl was rocking backward +and forward. All but overcome with excitement, she was still attempting +to chafe his right hand. When she saw him open his eyes she uttered a +little cry, then toppled over in a dead faint.</p> + +<p>"Wha—what happened?" Curlie's lips framed the words.</p> + +<p>"Lightning," shouted Joe. "Protectors must have got damp. +Short-circuited. Raised hob. Burned out about everything, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Can't be as bad as that. Tend to the girl," Curlie nodded toward the +corner.</p> + +<p>Joe ducked out of the cabin, to appear a moment later with a cold, damp +cloth. This he spread over the girl's forehead. A moment later she sat +up and looked about her.</p> + +<p>Curlie was sitting up also. He was rubbing his head. When he saw the +girl looking at him he laughed and sang:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Oh, a sailor's life is a merry life,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And it's a sailor's life for me.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span></p> + +<p>"But say!" he exclaimed suddenly, "what was I doing when things went to +pieces?"</p> + +<p>Joe nodded toward the radiophone desk where coils and instruments lay +piled in tangled confusion.</p> + +<p>"You were getting a message from out the storm."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, and they gave me their location. It was—no, I haven't it. +Lightning drove it right out of my head. Let me think. Let me +concentrate."</p> + +<p>For a full moment there was silence, the silence of the raging sea. Then +Curlie shook his head sadly.</p> + +<p>"No, I can't remember," his lips framed the words. It was unnecessary +that he shout them aloud.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed the girl, and for a moment it seemed that she would +faint again. But she controlled herself bravely.</p> + +<p>"We'll find them yet," she forced a brave smile. "It's a comfort just to +know they're still alive, that they're near us, at least not too far<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span> +away for us to save them if we can only find them."</p> + +<p>Again there was silence. Then Curlie rose unsteadily to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Give us a hand here, Joe, old scout," he said. "We'll get this thing +back in shape. There are extra vacuum tubes, tuning-coils and the like, +and plenty of all kinds of wire. We'll manage it somehow—got to."</p> + +<p>The girl rose, to sink upon a seat in the corner.</p> + +<p>"That's right," shouted Curlie. "You stay right here. We'll be company +for each other. Fellow needs company on a night like this. Besides, I've +got something to say, a lot to say, to you and Joe as soon as the +radiophone is tuned up again. Got to say it before I get killed again," +he chuckled.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2><h3>THE STORMY PETREL GETS AN ANSWER</h3> +</div> + +<p>The dash of rain which beat like a volley of lead upon the fuselage of +the seaplane as she rose above the spray lasted but a moment.</p> + +<p>"Just a warning of what's to come," Vincent called through the tube. +"Think we could run away from the storm?"</p> + +<p>"We'd just get lost on the ocean and not know what location to +radiophone," grumbled his companion. "Better keep circling. We can get +above the storm if we must."</p> + +<p>Once more the weary circle was commenced. With little hope of sighting +land, Vincent still fixed his gaze upon the black waters below, while he +sent the flash of light, now far to the right, now to the left, and now +straight beneath them.</p> + +<p>"Someone must have caught our S. O. S."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> he told himself. "We ought to +get sight of their lights pretty soon. But then," his hopes grew faint, +"not many ships in these seas. Might not have heard us. Might not be +able to reach us. Might—"</p> + +<p>He broke off abruptly. A blinding flash of lightning had illumined the +waters for miles in every direction. In that flash his eyes had seen +something; at least, he thought they had; some craft away to the left of +them; a craft which reminded him of one he had sailed upon many a time; +his father's yacht, the <i>Kittlewake</i>.</p> + +<p>"But of course it couldn't be," he told himself. "Nobody'd be crazy +enough to—"</p> + +<p>A second flash illumined the water, but this time, strain his eyes as he +might, he caught no glimpse of craft of any sort.</p> + +<p>"Must have dreamed it," he muttered. He closed his eyes for a second and +in that second saw his sister Gladys clearly mirrored on his mind's +vision. She was staggering down a pitching deck.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" he muttered, shaking himself violently,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> "this business is +getting my goat. I'll be delirious if I don't watch out."</p> + +<p>Again he fixed his gaze upon the spot of light as it traveled over the +water.</p> + +<p>He had kept steadily at the task for fifteen minutes, was wondering how +much longer the gas would hold out, wondering, too, whether the storm +was ever going to break, when he caught the pilot's signal in the tube.</p> + +<p>"How about trying another message?" his companion called.</p> + +<p>"Up here?" he asked in dismay.</p> + +<p>"I know—awful dangerous. But we've got to risk something. Lost if we +don't."</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll try." He began cautiously to unbuckle his harness.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had he loosened two of the three straps which held him in place +when the plane gave a sudden lurch. Having struck a pocket, it dropped +like an elevator cage released from its cable, straight down.</p> + +<p>"Oh—ah!" he exclaimed as he caught at a rod just in time to escape +being hurled away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span></p> + +<p>"Got to be careful," he told himself, "awful careful! Have to hold on +with one hand while I work with the other. Feet'll help too."</p> + +<p>When the plane had settled again, he loosened the last strap, then began +with the utmost caution to drag himself to the surface of the plane +above him.</p> + +<p>Once a vivid flash of lightning showed him the dizzy depths beneath him. +He was at that moment clinging to a rod with both hands. His legs were +twined about a second. Thus he hung suspended out over two thousand feet +of air and as many fathoms of water.</p> + +<p>For a moment a dizzy sickness overcame him, but this passed away. Again +he struggled to gain the platform above. This time he was successful.</p> + +<p>Even here he did not abandon caution. The straps were still about his +waist. One of these he fastened to a rod. Then with one hand he clung to +the framework before him, while with the other he worked at the task of +adjusting instruments.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span></p> + +<p>"Slow business," he murmured. "Maybe it won't work when I get through. +Maybe too damp. Maybe it—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he found himself floating in air, like the tail of a kite. Only +the strap and his viselike grip saved him. The plane had struck another +pocket.</p> + +<p>He was at last thrown back upon the platform with such force as dashed +the air from his lungs and a large part of his senses from his brain.</p> + +<p>After a moment of mental struggle he resumed his task. He worked +feverishly now. The fear that he might be seriously injured before he +had completed it had seized him.</p> + +<p>"Now," he breathed at last, "now we'll see!"</p> + +<p>His hand touched a switch. The motor buzzed.</p> + +<p>"Ah! She works! She works!" he exulted.</p> + +<p>Then with trembling fingers he sent out the signal of distress. He +followed this with their location, also in code. Three times he repeated +the message. Then snapping on his receiver,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> he strained his ear to +listen.</p> + +<p>"Ah!—" his lips parted. He was getting something. Was it an answer? He +could scarcely believe his ears. Yet it came distinctly:</p> + +<p>"Yacht <i>Kittlewake</i>, Curlie—"</p> + +<p>Just at that moment the plane gave a sickening swerve. Caught off his +balance, the boy was thrown clear off the platform. The receiver +connection snapped. He hung suspended by the single strap. Madly his +hands flew out to grasp at the pitching rods. Just in time he seized +them; the strap had broken.</p> + +<p>With the agility of a squirrel he let himself down to his old place +behind his companion. To buckle on the remaining straps was the work of +a moment. Then, in utter exhaustion and despair, he allowed his head to +sink upon his chest.</p> + +<p>"And I was getting—getting an answer," he gasped.</p> + +<p>His companion had seen nothing of his fall. Glancing behind him for a +second, he saw Vincent in his seat in the fuselage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span></p> + +<p>"What'd you come down for?"</p> + +<p>"Got shaken down."</p> + +<p>"Get anything?"</p> + +<p>"Was getting. Queer thing that! Got the name of my father's yacht and +the word 'Curly.' Then the plane lurched and spilled me off. Jerked the +receiver off too. Queer about that message! Thought I saw the +<i>Kittlewake</i> on the sea a while ago, but then I thought it couldn't +be—thought I was getting delirious or something."</p> + +<p>"Going back up?"</p> + +<p>"I—I'll—In a moment or two I'll try."</p> + +<p>A few moments later he did try, but it was no use. His nerve was gone. +His knees trembled so he could scarcely stand. His hands shook as with +the palsy. It is a terrible thing for a climber to lose his nerve while +in the air.</p> + +<p>"No use," he told himself. "I'd only get shaken off again and next time +I'd be out of luck. Shame too, just when I was getting things."</p> + +<p>Again he caught his companion's call.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span></p> + +<p>"Storm's almost here! Guess we'll have to climb."</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke, there came a flash of lightning which revealed a solid +black bank of clouds which seemed a wall of ebony. It was moving rapidly +toward them; was all but upon them.</p> + +<p>"Better climb; climb quick," he breathed through the tube.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2><h3>THE MAP'S SECRET</h3> +</div> + +<p>While all these things were happening to the boys on the seaplane, +Curlie Carson and Joe Marion were working hard to repair the damage done +to their radiophone set by the lightning. With the boat pitching about +as it was, and with the wind and waves keeping up a constant din, it was +a difficult task.</p> + +<p>Just what coils and instruments had been burned out it was difficult to +tell. All these must be tested out by the aid of a storage battery. When +the defective parts had been discarded, it was necessary to piece +together, out of the remaining parts and the extra equipment, an +entirely new set.</p> + +<p>"Have to use a two-stage amplifier," shouted Curlie, making himself +heard above the storm.</p> + +<p>"Lower voltage on the grid, too," Joe shouted back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span></p> + +<p>"Guess it'll be fairly good, though," said Curlie, working feverishly. +"Only hope it didn't burn out the insulation on our aerials. Want to get +her going again quick. Want to bad. Lot may depend on that."</p> + +<p>The insulation on the aerials was not burned out. After many minutes of +nerve-racking labor they had the equipment together again and were ready +to listen in.</p> + +<p>Curlie flashed a short message in code, giving the name of their boat +and its present location, then, with the receiver tightly clamped over +his ears, he settled back in his chair.</p> + +<p>For some time they sat there in silence, the two boys and Gladys +Ardmore.</p> + +<p>The beat of the waves was increasing. The wind was still rising, but as +yet no rain was falling.</p> + +<p>"Queer storm," shouted Joe. "Haven't gotten into it yet. Will though and +it's going to be bad. Skipper says the only thing we can do is to fasten +down all the hatches and hold her nose to the storm."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span></p> + +<p>"Better see about the hatches," shouted Curlie.</p> + +<p>Throwing open the door, letting in a dash of salt spray and a cold rush +of wind as he did so, Joe disappeared into the dark.</p> + +<p>Curlie and the girl were alone. The seat the girl occupied was clamped +solidly to the wall. It had broad, strong arms and to these she clung. +She was staring at the floor and seemed half asleep.</p> + +<p>When Joe disappeared, Curlie once more became conscious of her presence +and at once he was disturbed. Who would not have been disturbed at the +thought of a delicate girl, accustomed to every luxury, being thrown +into such desperate circumstances as they were in at the present moment.</p> + +<p>"Not my fault," he grumbled to himself. "I didn't want her to go. +Wouldn't have allowed her, either, had I known about it."</p> + +<p>"Not your fault?" his inner self chided him. "Suppose you didn't plan +this trip?"</p> + +<p>"Well, anyway," he grumbled, "she needn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span> have come along, and, +besides, circumstances have justified my theories. They are out here +somewhere, those two boys, and since they are it's up to someone to try +to save them."</p> + +<p>Then suddenly he remembered that he had something to say to the girl. He +opened his mouth to shout to her, but closed it again.</p> + +<p>"Better wait till Joe comes," he told himself. "The more people there +are to hear it, the more chances there are of its getting back to +shore."</p> + +<p>Joe blew back into the cabin a few moments later.</p> + +<p>"Everything all right?" Curlie shouted.</p> + +<p>At the sound of his voice, the girl started, looked up, then smiled; Joe +nodded his head.</p> + +<p>"Say, Joe, I'm hungry," shouted Curlie. "There's bread in the forward +cabin and some milk in a thermos bottle. Couldn't manage coffee, but +toast and milk'd be fine."</p> + +<p>The girl sprang to her feet as if to go for the required articles, but +Joe pushed her back into her chair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not for you," he shouted. "It's gettin' dangerous."</p> + +<p>"Joe," said Curlie, "there's a small electric toaster there in the +cabin. Disconnect it and bring it in here. We'll connect it up and make +the toast right here."</p> + +<p>When the toaster had been connected, the girl, happy in the knowledge +that she was able to be of service, toasted the bread to a brown quite +as delicate as that to be found on a landlubber's table.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Curlie as they sat enjoying this meager repast, "I've got +something to tell you, something that I want someone else beside me to +know. It's going to be an ugly storm and the <i>Kittlewake</i> is no +trans-Atlantic liner. We may all get back to shore. We may not. If one +of you do and I don't, I want you to tell this. It—it will sort of +justify my apparent rashness in dragging you off on this wild trip."</p> + +<p>He moved his chair close to the stationary seat of the girl and, +gripping one of the arms of the seat, motioned Joe to move up beside<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> +them. It was only thus that he might be heard unless he were to shout at +the top of his voice.</p> + +<p>"You know," he said, a strange smile playing over his thin lips, "you +folks probably have thought it strange that I should go rushing off on a +trip like this without any positive knowledge that those two boys had +started for that mysterious island shown on the map and spoken of in the +writing on the back of the map, but you see I had more information than +you thought. This I know for an almost positive fact," he leaned forward +impressively: "The mysterious island of the chart does not exist."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" the girl started back.</p> + +<p>"It's a fact," said Curlie, "and I'll give you my proof."</p> + +<p>He paused for a second. The girl leaned forward eagerly. Joe was all +attention.</p> + +<p>"When I went into that big library," he continued, "I was determined to +find all the truth regarding that map that was to be had there. While +you were looking at those ancient maps," he turned to Gladys, "I went +into a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> back room and there the lady in charge gave me some bound +reproductions of ancient maps to look at and some things to read, among +them a volume of the 'Scottish Geographic Magazine.' I read them through +carefully and—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he started violently, then clasped the receivers close to his +ears.</p> + +<p>"Just a moment. Getting something," he muttered.</p> + +<p>A second later he seized a pencil and marked down upon a pad a series of +dots and dashes.</p> + +<p>Then, wheeling about, he put his fingers on a key to flash back an +answer.</p> + +<p>"It's the boys," he shouted. "Got their location. Joe, decode what I +wrote there, then go ask the skipper how much we're off it."</p> + +<p>He turned once more to click off his message, a repetition of the first +one; then he shouted a second message into his transmitter.</p> + +<p>Joe Marion studied the pad for a moment, then rushed out of the cabin.</p> + +<p>All alert, Curlie sat listening for any further message which might +reach him. Presently Joe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> returned. There was a puzzled look upon his +face.</p> + +<p>"Skipper says," he shouted, "that the point you gave me is the exact +location of the island shown on that ancient map and that we must be +about ten knots to the north of it. When I told him that the boys were +in a seaplane at that point, he suddenly became convinced that there +must be an island out there somewhere and refused to change his course.</p> + +<p>"'For,' he says, 'if they've been sending messages from a plane in a +gale like this they must be on the ground to do it and if on the ground, +where but on an island? And if there's an island, how are we going to +get up to her in the storm that's about to hit us. We'll be piled on the +rocks and smashed in pieces.' That's what he said; said we'd be much +safer in the open sea."</p> + +<p>Curlie stared at the floor. His mind was in a whirl. Here he had been +about to furnish proof that the mysterious island did not exist and just +at that instant there came floating in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span> from the air proof of the +island's actual existence, proof so strong that even a seasoned old salt +believed it and refused to change his course. What was he to say to +that!</p> + +<p>Fortunately, or unfortunately, he was to be given time enough to think +about it, for at that moment, with an unbelievable violence the storm +broke.</p> + +<p>As they felt the impact of it, it was as if the staunch little craft had +run head on into one of those steel nets used during the war for +trapping submarines. She struck it and from the very force of the blow, +recoiled. The thing she had struck, however, was not a steel net but a +mountain of waters flanked by such a volume of wind as is seldom seen on +the Atlantic.</p> + +<p>"It's the end of the <i>Kittlewake</i>," thought Curlie. "You take care of +her," he shouted in Joe's ear, at the same time jerking his thumb at +Gladys. The next second he disappeared into the storm.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2><h3>A SEA ABOVE A SEA</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Alfred Brightwood had tilted the nose of the <i>Stormy Petrel</i> upward +and away from the threatening bank of clouds she rose rapidly. A +thousand, two thousand, three, four, five thousand feet she mounted to +dizzy heights above the sea.</p> + +<p>As they mounted, the stars, swinging about in the sky, like incandescent +bulbs strung on a wire, made their appearance here and there. They came +out rapidly, by twos and threes, by scores and hundreds. In clusters and +fantastic figures they swam about in the purple night.</p> + +<p>Almost instantly the sea disappeared from beneath them and in its place +came a new sea; a sea of dark rushing clouds. Rising two thousand feet +above the level of the ocean, this mass of moisture hanging there in the +sky took on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span> the appearance of a second sea. As Vincent looked down upon +it he found it easy to believe that were they to drop slowly down upon +it, they would be seized upon and torn this way, then that by the +violence of the storm that was even now raging beneath them, and that +their plane would be cast at last, a shapeless mass, upon the real sea +which was roaring and raging beneath it.</p> + +<p>"How wonderful nature is!" he breathed. "It would be magnificent were it +not so terrible."</p> + +<p>He was thinking of the gasoline in their tank and he shuddered. Would it +last until the storm had passed, or would they be obliged to volplane +down into that seething tempest?</p> + +<p>He put his lips to the tube. "You better use just enough gas to keep us +afloat," he suggested.</p> + +<p>Alfred muttered something like, "Think I'm a fool?" Then for a long +time, with the black sea of clouds rising and falling, billowing up like +the walls of a mammoth tent, then sagging down to rise again, they +circled and circled. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span> were not circling now in search of adventure, +to find some island which might bring them great wealth, but to preserve +life. How long that circling could last, neither could tell.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When Curlie Carson left the wireless cabin of the <i>Kittlewake</i>, he +grasped a rail which ran along the cabin, just in time to prevent +himself from being washed overboard by a giant wave. As it was, the +water lifted his feet from the deck and, having lifted him as the wind +lifts a flag, it waved him up and down three times, at last to send him +crashing, knees down, on the deck. The wind was half knocked out of him, +but he was still game. He did not attempt to regain the wireless cabin +but fought his way along the side of that cabin toward his own stateroom +door.</p> + +<p>Now a vivid flash of light revealed the water-washed deck. A coil of +rope, all uncoiled by the waves, was wriggling like a serpent in the +black sea.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span></p> + +<p>"No use to try to save it," he mumbled. "No good here, anyhow."</p> + +<p>A yellow light, hanging above his stateroom door, dancing dizzily, +appeared at one moment to take a plunge into the sea and at the next to +dash away into the ink-black sky.</p> + +<p>Curlie was drenched to the skin. He was benumbed with the cold and +shocked into half insensibility at the tremendous proportions of the +storm. He wondered vaguely about the engineer below. Was the water +getting at the engines? He still felt the throb of them beneath his +feet. Well, that much was good anyway. And the skipper? Was he still at +the wheel? Must be, for the yacht continued to take the waves head-on.</p> + +<p>Short and light as she was, the craft appeared to leap from wave-crest +to wave-crest. Now she missed the leap by a foot and the water drenched +her deck anew. And now she overstepped and came down with a solid impact +that set her shuddering from stern to keel.</p> + +<p>"Good old <i>Kittlewake</i>," he murmured, "you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> sure were built for rough +service!"</p> + +<p>But now he had reached his stateroom door. With a lurch he threw open +the door, with a second he fell through, a third slammed it shut.</p> + +<p>One second his eyes roved about the place; the next his lips parted as +something bumped against his foot.</p> + +<p>Stooping, he lifted up a long affair the size and shape of a round cedar +fencepost. It was this he had brought aboard just before sailing. It had +been shaken down and had been rolling about the floor.</p> + +<p>Having examined its wrapping carefully, he shook it once or twice.</p> + +<p>"Guess you're all right," he muttered. "And you had better be! A whole +lot depends on you in a pinch."</p> + +<p>His eyes roved about the room. At length, snatching a blanket from his +berth, he tore it into strips. Then, throwing back his mattress, he +placed the postlike affair beneath it and lashed it firmly to the +springs.</p> + +<p>"There!" he exclaimed with much satisfaction,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> "you'll be safe until +needed, if you <i>are</i> needed, and—and you never can tell."</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>The end of the seaplane's last flirt with death and destruction came +suddenly and without warning. Overcome as he was by constant watching, +dead for sleep and famished for food, Vincent Ardmore had all but fallen +asleep in his seat on the fuselage when a hoarse snort from one of the +motors, followed quickly by a rattling grate from the other, startled +him into complete wakefulness.</p> + +<p>The silence which followed these strange noises was appalling. It was +like the lull before a hurricane.</p> + +<p>"Gas is gone," said Alfred. There was fear and defiance in his tone, +defiance of Nature which he believed had treated him badly "Have to go +down now."</p> + +<p>"Go down!" Vincent shivered at the thought. Go down to what?</p> + +<p>He glanced below, then a ray of hope lighted his face. The storm was +passing—had all but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> passed. The clouds beneath them were no longer +densely black. A mere mist, they hung like a veil over the sea.</p> + +<p>"But the water?" His heart sank. "It will still be raging."</p> + +<p>The storm had not so far passed as he at first thought. The plane cut a +circling path as she descended. Her wings were broad; her drop was +gradual. As they entered the first layer of clouds, she gave a lurch +forward, but with wonderful control the young pilot righted her. Seconds +passed, then again she tipped, this time more perilously. But again she +was righted. Now she was caught in a little flurry of wind that set her +spinning. A nose-dive seemed inevitable, but once more she came to +position. Now, as they neared the surface of the sea, a wild, racing +wind, the tail of the storm, seized them and hurled them headlong before +it. In its grasp, there was no longer thought of control. The only +question now was how they would strike the water and when. The very rush +of the wind tore the breath from Vincent's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span> lungs. Crushed back against +the fuselage, he awaited the end. Once, twice, three times they turned +over in a mad whirl. Then, with a sudden rending crash and a wild burst +of spray, they struck.</p> + +<p>The plane had gone down on one wing. For a second she hung suspended +there. Vincent caught his breath. If she went one way there was a +chance; if the other, there was none. He thought of loosening his +straps, but did not. So he hung there. Came a sudden crash. The right +motor had torn from its lashings and plunged into the sea.</p> + +<p>The next second the plane settled to the left. Saved for a moment, the +boy drew a deep breath. A second crash and the remaining motor was gone. +During this crash the boy was completely submerged, but the buoyant +plane brought him up again. Then, for a moment, he was free to think, to +look about him. Instinctively his eyes sought the place where his +companion had been seated. It was empty. Alfred was gone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span></p> + +<p>Covering his eyes with his hands, he tried to tell himself it was not +true. Then, suddenly uncovering them, he searched the surface of the +troubled sea. Once he fancied he caught a glimpse of a white hand above +a wave. He could not be sure; it might have been a speck of foam. Only +one thing he could be sure of; his throbbing brain told it to him over +and over: Alfred Brightwood, his friend, was gone—gone forever. The sea +had swallowed him up.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2><h3>THE BOATS ARE GONE</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Curlie Carson had fastened the mysterious post-shaped affair to the +springs of his berth, he fought his way against wind, waves and darkness +back to the radiophone cabin.</p> + +<p>"Anything come in?" he asked as he shook the dampness from his clothing.</p> + +<p>"Nothing I could make out," shouted Joe. "Got something all jumbled up +with static once but couldn't make it out." Rising, he took the receiver +from his head and handed it to Curlie. Then, as the craft took a sudden +plunge, he leaped for a seat. Missing it, he went sprawling upon the +floor.</p> + +<p>In spite of the seriousness of their dilemma, the girl let forth a +joyous peal of laughter. Joe's antics as he attempted to rise were too +ridiculous for words.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span></p> + +<p>There was tonic for all of them in that laugh. They felt better because +of it.</p> + +<p>Some moments after that, save for the wild beat of the storm, there was +silence. Then, clapping the receivers to his ears, Curlie uttered an +exclamation. He was getting something, or at least thought he was. Yes, +now he did get it, a whisper. Faint, indistinct, mingled with static, +yet audible enough, there came the four words:</p> + +<p>"Hello there, Curlie! Hello!"</p> + +<p>At that moment the currents of electricity playing from cloud to cloud +set up such a rattle and jangle of static that he heard no more.</p> + +<p>"It's that girl in my old home town, in that big hotel," he told +himself. "To think that her whisper would carry over all those miles in +such a gale! She's sending on 600. Wonder why?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, well," he breathed, when nothing further had come in, "I'll unravel +that mystery in good time, providing we get out of this mess and get +back to that home burg of ours. But now—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span></p> + +<p>Suddenly he started and stared. There had come a loud bump against the +cabin; then another and another.</p> + +<p>"It's the boats!" he shouted. "They've torn loose. Should have known +they would. Should have thought of that. Here!" He handed the receiver +to Joe and once more dashed out into the storm.</p> + +<p>The <i>Kittlewake</i> carried two lifeboats. As he struggled toward where +they should have been, some object swinging past him barely missed his +head.</p> + +<p>Instantly he dropped to the deck, at the same time gripping at the rail +to save himself from being washed overboard.</p> + +<p>"That," he told himself, "was a block swinging from a rope. The boat on +this side is gone. Worse luck for that! We—we might need 'em before +we're through with this."</p> + +<p>Slowly he worked his way along the rail toward the stern. Now and again +the waves that washed the deck lifted him up to slam him down again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span></p> + +<p>"Quit that!" he muttered hoarsely. "Can't you let a fellow alone."</p> + +<p>Arrived at last on the other side, he rose to his knees and tried to +peer above him to the place where the second lifeboat should be +swinging. A flash of lightning aided his vision. A groan escaped his +lips.</p> + +<p>"Gone!" he muttered. "Should have thought of that! But," he told +himself, "there's still the raft!"</p> + +<p>The raft, built of boards and gas-filled tubes, was lashed to the deck +forward. Thither he made his difficult way.</p> + +<p>To his great relief, he found the raft still safe. Since it was +thrashing about, he uncoiled a rope closely lashed to the side of a +cabin and with tremendous effort succeeded in making the raft snug.</p> + +<p>"There, now, you'll remain with us for a spell," he muttered.</p> + +<p>Clinging there for a moment, he appeared to debate some important +question.</p> + +<p>"Guess I ought to do it," he told himself at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span> last. "And I'd better do +it now. You never can tell what will happen next and if worst comes to +worst it's our only chance."</p> + +<p>Fighting his way back to his cabin, he returned presently with the +post-shaped affair which he had lashed to the springs of his berth.</p> + +<p>This he now lashed to the stout slats of wood and crossbars of metal on +the raft. When he had finished it appeared to be part of the raft.</p> + +<p>"There, my sweet baby," he murmured, "sleep here, rocked on the cradle +of the deep, until your papa wants you. You're a beautiful and wonderful +child!"</p> + +<p>Then, weary, water-soaked, chilled to the bone, stupefied by the wild +beat of the storm, aching in every muscle but not downhearted, he fought +his way back to the radio cabin.</p> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p>Nature has been kind to man. She has so made him that he is incapable of +feeling all the tragedy and sorrow of a terrible situation at the time +when it bursts upon him. Vincent Ardmore, as he clung to the wrecked +plane, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> his companion gone from him forever, did not sense the full +horror of his position. He realized little more than the fact that he +was chilled to the bone, and that the wind and waves were beating upon +him unmercifully.</p> + +<p>Then, gradually there stole into his benumbed mind the thought that he +might improve his position. The platform above him still stood clear of +the waves. Could he but loosen the straps which bound him to the +fuselage, could he but climb to that platform, he would at least be free +for a time from the rude beating of the black waters which rolled over +him incessantly.</p> + +<p>With the numbed, trembling fingers of one hand he struggled with the +stubborn, water-soaked straps while with the other he clung to the rods +of the rigging. To loosen his grip for an instant, once the straps were +unfastened, meant almost certain death.</p> + +<p>After what seemed an eternity of time the last strap gave way and, with +a wild pounding of his heart, he gripped the rods and began to climb.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span></p> + +<p>As he tumbled upon the platform, new hope set the blood racing through +his veins.</p> + +<p>"There might yet be a chance," he murmured, almost joyfully; "the storm +is breaking." His eyes wandered to the fleeting clouds. "Dawn's coming, +too. I—I—why, I might send a message. The motor's gone dead, of +course, but there are still storage batteries. If only the insulations +are good. If water has not soaked in anywhere!"</p> + +<p>With trembling fingers he tested the batteries. A bright flash of fire +told him they were still alive. Then with infinite care he adjusted the +instruments. At last he tapped a wire and a grating rattle went forth.</p> + +<p>"She's still good," he exulted.</p> + +<p>Then slowly, distinctly, he talked into the transmitter, talked as he +might had he been surrounded by the cozy comforts of home. He gave his +name, the name of his aircraft; told of his perilous position; gave his +approximate location and asked for aid. Only once his voice broke and +fell to a whisper. That was when he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span> tried to tell of the sad fate of +his companion.</p> + +<p>Having come to the end, he adjusted the receiver to his ears and sat +there listening.</p> + +<p>Suddenly his face grew tense with expectation. He was getting something, +an answer to his message.</p> + +<p>For a full moment he sat there tense, motionless. Then, suddenly, +without warning, a new catastrophe assailed him. A giant wave, leaping +high, came crashing down upon the wreckage of the plane. There followed +a snapping and crashing of braces. When the wave had passed, the +platform to which he clung floated upon the sea. His radiophone +equipment was water-soaked, submerged. His storage batteries had toppled +over to plunge into the sea.</p> + +<p>So there he clung, a single individual on a mass of wreckage, helpless +and well-nigh hopeless in the midst of a vast ocean whose waves were +even now subsiding after a terrific storm.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2><h3>THE WRECK OF THE <i>KITTLEWAKE</i></h3> +</div> + +<p>"I'm getting a message!" exclaimed Curlie excitedly. "Getting it +distinct and plain, and it's—it's from them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is it?" the girl sprang from the seat.</p> + +<p>"From your brother. They've been wrecked. They're not on an island but +on the sea. Safe, though, only—" he paused to listen closely again—"I +can't just make out what he says about his companion."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Please, please let me listen!" Gladys Ardmore gripped his arm.</p> + +<p>Quickly Curlie snatched the receiver from his head and pressed it down +over her tangled mass of brown hair.</p> + +<p>She caught but a few words, then the voice broke suddenly off, but such +words as they were; such words of comfort. The voice of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> only +brother had come stealing across the storm to her, assuring her that he +was still alive; that there was still a chance that he might be saved. +She pressed the receivers to her ears in the hopes of hearing more.</p> + +<p>In the meantime Curlie was answering the message. In quiet, reassuring +tones he gave their location and told of their purpose in those waters +and ended with the assurance that if it were humanly possible the rescue +should be accomplished.</p> + +<p>"And we will save them," he exclaimed. "At least we'll save your +brother."</p> + +<p>"You don't think—" Gladys did not finish.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know what to think about your brother's chum," Curlie said +thoughtfully. "But this we do know: Your brother is clinging to the +wreckage of a seaplane out there somewhere. And we will save him. See! +the storm is about at an end and morning is near!" He pointed to the +window, where the first faint glow of dawn was showing.</p> + +<p>For a moment all were silent. Then suddenly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> without warning, there +came a grinding crash that sent a shudder through the <i>Kittlewake</i> from +stem to stern.</p> + +<p>"What was that?" exclaimed Joe Marion, springing to his feet from the +floor where he had been thrown.</p> + +<p>"We struck something!" Curlie was out upon the deck like a shot.</p> + +<p>He all but collided with the skipper, who had deserted his wheel.</p> + +<p>"We 'it somethin'," shouted the skipper, "an' she's sinkin' by the +larboard bow. Gotta' git off 'er quick. Boats are gone! Everythin's +gone."</p> + +<p>"No," said Curlie calmly, "the raft forward is safely lashed on."</p> + +<p>The engineer appeared from below. The engine had already ceased its +throbbing.</p> + +<p>"She's fillin' fast," he commented in a slow drawl.</p> + +<p>"You two get the raft loose," said Curlie. "I'll get the girl."</p> + +<p>Dashing to his stateroom he seized two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span> blankets and a large section of +oiled cloth. With these he dashed to the radio room.</p> + +<p>"Got to get out quick!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Before she could realize what he was doing, he had seized the girl and +had wrapped her round and round with the blankets, then with the oiled +cloth. Joe had rushed out to help with the raft. Curlie carried the girl +outside and, when the raft with the others aboard was afloat, handed her +down to the skipper.</p> + +<p>"Try and keep her dry," he said calmly. "We'll all get soaked, but we +can stand it for a long time; a girl can't."</p> + +<p>"Now push off!" he commanded. "Get good and clear so that the wreck will +not draw you down."</p> + +<p>"You'll come with us," said the skipper sternly. Curlie had not intended +going with them. He had meant to remain behind and send a call for aid, +then to swim for the raft. But now, as he saw the water gaining on the +stricken craft, he realized how dangerous and futile it would be. He was +needed on the raft to help<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> get her away. Having seen all this at a +flash he said:</p> + +<p>"All right; I'll go." Having dropped to the raft, and seized a short +paddle, he joined Joe and the engineer in forcing the unwieldy raft away +from the side of the doomed <i>Kittlewake</i>.</p> + +<p>They were none too soon, for scarcely two minutes could have elapsed +when with a rush that nearly engulfed them the boat keeled up on end and +sank from sight.</p> + +<p>"And now," said Joe addressing Curlie as he settled back to a seat on +one of the gas-filled tubes, "you can test out what you said once about +keeping your radiophone dry and tuned up under any and every +circumstance. Suppose you tune her up now and get off an S.O.S."</p> + +<p>There was a smile on the lips of the undaunted young operator as he said +with a drawl:</p> + +<p>"Give me time, Joe, old scout, give me time."</p> + +<p>The girl, staring out from her wrappings, appeared to fear that the two +boys had gone delirious over this new catastrophe.</p> + +<p>But only brave and hardy spirits can joke in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> the midst of disaster, and +as for Curlie, he really did have one more trick up his sleeve.</p> + +<p>As the old skipper sat staring away at the point where his craft had +disappeared beneath the dark waters, he murmured:</p> + +<p>"'Twasn't much we 'it; fragment from an iceberg 'er somethin', but 'twas +enough. An' a good little craft she was too."</p> + +<p>The storm had passed, but the waves were still rolling high. The raft +tilted to such an angle that now they were all in danger of being +pitched headforemost into the sea, and now in danger of falling backward +into the trough of the waves.</p> + +<p>Soaked to the skin, shivering, miserable, the boys and men clung to the +raft, while the girl bewailed the fact that she was not permitted to +suffer with them. Wrapped as she was, and carefully guarded from the +on-rush of the waves, she escaped all the miserable damp and chill of +it.</p> + +<p>"Shows you're a real sport," Curlie's lips, blue with cold, attempted a +smile, "but you've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span> got to let us play the gentleman, even out here."</p> + +<p>When the waves had receded somewhat, Curlie began digging at one of the +tubes beneath his feet. Having at length unfastened it, he stood it on +end to unscrew some fastenings and lift off the top.</p> + +<p>"Canisters of water and some emergency rations!" exclaimed Joe, as he +peered inside. "Great stuff!"</p> + +<p>They had taken a swallow of water apiece and were preparing to munch +some hardtack and chocolate when Gladys exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Look over there. What's that?"</p> + +<p>"There's nothing," said the engineer after studying the waves for a +moment.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes there was!" the girl insisted emphatically. "Something showed +up on the crest of a wave. It's in the trough of the wave now. It'll +come up again."</p> + +<p>"Bit of wreckage from our yacht," suggested Joe.</p> + +<p>"Not much wreckage on 'er," said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> skipper. "All washed off 'er long +before she sank."</p> + +<p>"What could it be then?" The girl was fairly holding her breath. "It +couldn't be—"</p> + +<p>"Don't get your hopes up too high," cautioned Curlie. "Of course +miracles do happen, but not so very often."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2><h3>THE MIRACLE</h3> +</div> + +<p>They were all straining their eyes when at last the thing appeared once +more on the crest of the wave.</p> + +<p>"Wreckage! A mass of it!" came from the skipper.</p> + +<p>"And—and there's a hand!" exclaimed Curlie.</p> + +<p>"The paddles, boys! The paddles! Every 'and of you, hup an' at it," +shouted the skipper.</p> + +<p>The wildest excitement prevailed, yet out of it all there came quick and +concerted action. Three paddles flashed as, straining every muscle, they +strove to bring the clumsy raft nearer the wreck. With tears in her +eyes, the girl begged and implored them to unwrap her and allow her to +have a hand in the struggle.</p> + +<p>A minute passed. No longer chilled but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> steaming from violent exertion, +they strained eager eyes to catch another glimpse of the wreck.</p> + +<p>"There—there it is!" exclaimed the girl, overcome with joy. "You're +gaining! You're gaining!"</p> + +<p>Five minutes passed. They gained half the distance. Eight minutes more; +the hand on the wreckage rose again. They were getting nearer.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the girl uttered a piercing cry of joy:</p> + +<p>"It is Vincent! It is! It is!"</p> + +<p>And she was right. A moment later, as they dragged the all but senseless +form from the seaplane, they recognized him at once as the millionaire's +son.</p> + +<p>He had drifted in the benumbing water so long that had they been delayed +for another hour they would have found nothing more than a corpse +awaiting them.</p> + +<p>As Curlie tore Vincent's sodden outer garments from him he saw the girl +carefully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> unrolling the blankets and oiled covering from about her. He +did not protest. To him the thought of seeing this girl half drowned and +chilled through by the spray which even now at times dashed over the +raft, was heartbreaking, but he knew it was necessary if the life of her +brother was to be saved.</p> + +<p>"Brave girl!" he murmured as he wrapped Vincent in the coverings and +passed him on to the skipper.</p> + +<p>"And now," he said, "the time has come to think of other things. I +believe the waves have sufficiently subsided to enable us to dare it."</p> + +<p>He fumbled once more at the raft, at last to bring up a long, +post-shaped affair.</p> + +<p>"More rations," murmured Joe, swallowing his last bite of hardtack; "a +regular commissary. But why get them out at this time?"</p> + +<p>"You wait," smiled Curlie.</p> + +<p>He was standing up. After telling Joe to steady him, he began tearing +away at the upper end of the mysterious package. In a moment, he took +out some limp, rubber affairs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span></p> + +<p>"Toy balloons," jeered Joe.</p> + +<p>"Something like that," Curlie smiled.</p> + +<p>He next brought out a small brass retort and a tiny spirit lamp.</p> + +<p>"Lucky our matches are dry," he murmured, after unwrapping some oiled +cloth and lighting the spirit lamp with one of the matches inclosed.</p> + +<p>After firmly tying the end of a toy balloon over the mouth of the retort +he held the spirit lamp beneath the bowl of the retort. At once the +balloon began to expand.</p> + +<p>"Chemicals already in the retort," he explained.</p> + +<p>When the balloon was sufficiently inflated, he quickly tied it at the +mouth, then began inflating another.</p> + +<p>"The gas is very buoyant," he explained. "Hold that," he said as he +passed the string to the engineer.</p> + +<p>"There's enough," he said quietly when the third had been filled.</p> + +<p>He next drew forth some shiny fine copper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span> wire coiled about some round, +insulated bars.</p> + +<p>When he had fastened the balloons to one end of the bars, he attached a +strong cord to the balloons, then allowed them to rise, at the same time +paying out the strands of copper wire.</p> + +<p>"Not very heavy wire for an aerial," he remarked, "but heavy enough. +We'll have a perpendicular aerial, which is better than horizontal, and +it'll hang pretty high. All that's in our favor."</p> + +<p>When the balloons had risen to a height which allowed the aerial, to +which was attached a heavier insulated wire, to float free, he gave the +cord to the engineer and began busying himself at putting together what +appeared to be a small windmill with curved, brass fans.</p> + +<p>"A windmill," he explained, "is the surest method of obtaining a little +power. Always a little breeze floating round. Enough to turn a wheel. +This one is connected direct with a small generator. Gives power enough +for a radiophone. Might use batteries but they might go dead on you. +Windmill and generator is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span> as good after ten years as ten days.</p> + +<p>"There you are," he heaved a sigh of relief, as he struck the +transmitter which he had taken from his apparently inexhaustible "bag of +tricks."</p> + +<p>"Unless I miss my guess, we have a perfectly good radiophone outfit of +fair power. All the rest of it is stowed down there in the bottom. We +should be heard distinctly at from a hundred to five hundred miles. In +the future," he smiled, "every lifeboat and raft will be equipped with +one of these handy little radiophone outfits, which are really not very +expensive."</p> + +<p>Then, with all eyes fixed upon him, he began to converse with the unseen +and unknown, who, sailing somewhere on that vast sweep of water, were, +they hoped, to become their rescuers.</p> + +<p>In perfectly natural tones he spoke of their catastrophe and their +present predicament. He gave their approximate location and the names of +their party. This after an interval of two minutes, he repeated.</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly his lips parted in a smile. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span> others watched him with +strained attention. After a minute had elapsed, he said with apparent +satisfaction:</p> + +<p>"We'll await your arrival with unmixed pleasure.</p> + +<p>"The Steamship Torrence," he explained, "in crossing the Atlantic was +driven two hundred miles off her course. She is now only about +seventy-five miles from us. Being a fast boat, she should reach us in +three or four hours.</p> + +<p>"And now," he said with a smile, "since we have no checker-board on deck +and are entirely deprived of musical instruments of any kind, perhaps +you would like to hear me tell why I was sure the mysterious island +which has caused us so much grief, did not exist."</p> + +<p>"By the way," he said turning to Vincent, "do you chance to have the +original of that old map with you?"</p> + +<p>The boy pointed to his aviator's sodden leather coat. Although he had +gained much strength from the warm blankets, he had found himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> +unable to speak of the tragedy which had befallen his companion on the +<i>Stormy Petrel</i>. Now as he saw Curlie draw the water-soaked map from the +pocket of his coat, a look of horror overspread his face and he muttered +hoarsely:</p> + +<p>"Throw it into the sea. It brings nothing but bad luck."</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Curlie, "we won't do that."</p> + +<p>"Then you must keep it," the other boy exclaimed. "I don't want ever to +see it again. Alfred made me a present of it just before we hopped off."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Curlie, "but you are parting with a thing of some +value."</p> + +<p>"Value!" exclaimed Vincent. Then he sat staring at Curlie in silence as +much as to say: "You too must have been bitten by the gold-bug." But +that Curlie had not been bitten by that dangerous and poisonous insect +will be proved, I think, by the pages which follow.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2><h3>THE STORY OF THE MAP</h3> +</div> + +<p>"You see," said Curlie, tapping the soggy bit of vellum which he held in +his hand, "the trouble with this map is, not that it is not genuine, but +that it's too old. This map," he paused for emphasis, "this map was made +in fourteen hundred and forty-six."</p> + +<p>Gladys Ardmore gasped. Her brother stared in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"It's a fact!" declared Curlie emphatically.</p> + +<p>"You see," he went on, "the day I was in the library with Miss Gladys I +saw an exact reproduction of this map in a large volume. At the same +time I read a description of it and a brief account of its history. It +seems it was lost sight of about a century ago. There were copies, but +the original was gone.</p> + +<p>"I concluded at once that the map had somehow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span> come into the hands of +Alfred Brightwood. Since I was convinced that this was the truth, and +since I had read the writing about the gold discovered on the mysterious +island charted there, I decided that it would be wise to find out +whether or not it were possible that this strange story might be true. I +found my answer in a bound volume of Scottish Geographic Magazines in a +series of articles entitled 'The So-Called Mythical Islands of the +Atlantic.'</p> + +<p>"It seems that there is fairly good proof that a number of vessels +landed on the North American continent before Columbus did. Driven out +of their course or lured on by hopes of gold and adventure, these ships +from time to time discovered and rediscovered lands to the west of +Ireland. They thought of the land as islands and gave them names. The +island of Brazil was one of them. If you were to consult this map I have +here you would find the island of Brazil indicated by a circle which is +nearly as large as Ireland, yet if you were to cruise all over the +waters in the vicinity of this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span> supposed island you would find only the +restless old ocean.</p> + +<p>"What's the answer then?" he smiled. "Just this: These ancient sea +rovers didn't have any accurate way of telling where they were at a +given time on the sea, so they had to guess at it. Carried on by winds +and currents, they often traveled much farther than they thought. They +landed on the continent of North America and thought it an island. When +they came back to Europe they tried to locate the land they had +discovered on a map, and missed it by only a thousand miles or so.</p> + +<p>"Our ancient friend who wrote of his experiences on the back of this map +had doubtless been carried to some point in Central or South America, +for there was, even in those days, plenty of gold to be found in those +regions."</p> + +<p>"So you see," he turned to Vincent with a smile, "you went five hundred +miles out to sea for the purpose of rediscovering America. Not much +chance of success. Anyway that's what I thought, and that is why I +dashed off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> on a wild race in the <i>Kittlewake</i>. And that's why we're +here."</p> + +<p>Silence followed the ending of Curlie's narrative. There seemed to be +nothing more to say.</p> + +<p>So they sat there staring at the sea for a long time.</p> + +<p>The silence was at last broken by the skipper's announcement:</p> + +<p>"Smoke on the larboard bow."</p> + +<p>It was true. Their relief was at hand.</p> + +<p>Almost immediately afterward Curlie received a second reassuring message +from the captain of the liner. A short time after that he had the +pleasure of escorting the dripping daughter of a millionaire up the +gangway.</p> + +<p>The next day as they were moving in toward the dock, Vincent Ardmore +approached Curlie.</p> + +<p>"My sister," there was a strange smile on his lips, "says you set out on +this trip for the purpose of having me arrested?"</p> + +<p>"I did."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well—" the other boy choked up and could not continue.</p> + +<p>"The law, punishment, prisons and all that, as I understand it," said +Curlie thoughtfully, "have but one purpose: to teach people what other +folks' rights are and to encourage them in respecting them. It's my +business to see that there is fair play in the air."</p> + +<p>He paused and looked away at the sea. When he resumed there was a +suspicious huskiness in his voice. "Seems to me that as far as you are +concerned, nature has punished you about enough. You ought to know by +this time what interfering with the radio wave lengths belonging to sea +traffic might mean to shipwrecked men; and—well—Oh, what's the use!" +he broke off abruptly. "I'm a chicken-hearted fool. You're out on parole +and must report to your sister every week. She's—she's what I'd call a +brick!"</p> + +<p>Turning hastily he walked away.</p> + +<p>Almost before he knew it, he all but ran over Gladys Ardmore, coming to +meet him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Mister—Mister—" she hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Just plain Curlie," he smiled.</p> + +<p>"You—you're coming to see me when you get home? Won't you?"</p> + +<p>Curlie thought a moment, then of a sudden the spacious walls of the +Ardmore mansion flashed into his mind. To go there as an officer of the +law was one thing; to go as a guest was quite another.</p> + +<p>"Why—why—" he drew back in confusion—"you'll have to excuse me +but—but—"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I know!" she exclaimed. "It's the house and everything. Tell you +what," she seized him by the arm; "there's a little old-fashioned +farmhouse down in one corner of our estate. It was there when we bought +it and has been kept just the same ever since. Even the furniture, red +plush chairs, kitchen stove and everything, are there. We'll go down +there and have a regular frolic sometime, popcorn, molasses candy, +checkers and everything. We've a wonderful cook who once lived on a +farm. We'll take her along as a chaperon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> Now will you come? Will you?" +she urged eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Why—why—"</p> + +<p>"If you don't," she held up a warning finger, "I'll come up and visit +you in that secret wireless room of yours just as I once said I would."</p> + +<p>"In that case," said Curlie, "I suppose I'll have to surrender. And," he +added happily, "here we are, back to dear old North America, without any +gold but with a lot to be thankful for."</p> + +<p>The boat was bumping against the dock. Giving his arm a squeeze the girl +dashed away.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2><h3>OFF ON ANOTHER WILD CHASE</h3> +</div> + +<p>A few nights later Curlie was back in the secret tower room. He was busy +as ever running down trouble.</p> + +<p>Joe Marion, entering the room noiselessly, dropped a letter into his +hand. The letter bore the insignia of the Ardmore family in one corner.</p> + +<p>"From Gladys Ardmore!" he told himself.</p> + +<p>But he was mistaken. It was a typewritten letter signed in a bold +business hand. It ran:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is with great pleasure that I inclose a check for the sum of the +reward offered for the safe return of my son.</p></div> + +<p> +"(Signed) J. Anson Ardmore."<br /> +</p> + +<p>Curlie looked at the check, then uttered a low whistle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pay to the order of C. Carson, $10,000.00," he whispered. Then out +loud:</p> + +<p>"Joe, what would a fellow do with ten thousand dollars?"</p> + +<p>"Search me," Joe grinned back. "You got the fever or something?" he +asked a second later.</p> + +<p>Curlie showed him the check.</p> + +<p>"Why," said Joe, "you might buy a car."</p> + +<p>"Not much. The Humming Bird's quite good enough."</p> + +<p>"Tell you what," he said after a moment's thought, "just get that cashed +for me, will you? Then find out where our old skipper and the engineer +live and send them a thousand apiece. After that pocket a thousand for +yourself. Then—then—Oh, well, hire me a safety deposit box and buy me +a lot of Liberty bonds. Might want 'em some day.</p> + +<p>"And, say, that reminds me," he pointed to a square of vellum which hung +on a stretcher in the corner. "Take that over to the big library on the +North Side and tell 'em it's a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> present from us. It's that map Vincent +Ardmore gave me. It's worth a thousand dollars, but such maps are not +safe outside a library. Tell 'em to put it on ice," he laughed.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had Joe departed than a keen-eyed, gray-haired man entered the +tower room. He was Colonel Edward Marshall, Curlie's superior.</p> + +<p>"Curlie," he wrinkled his brow, as he took a seat, "there's somebody +raising hob with the radio service in Alaska."</p> + +<p>Curlie nodded his head. "I thought there might be. Sends on 1200, +doesn't he?" He was thinking of the hotel mystery and of the strange +girl who had whispered to him so often out of the night.</p> + +<p>"Yes, how did you know so much?"</p> + +<p>"Part of my job."</p> + +<p>"But you've been away."</p> + +<p>"Radiophone whispers travel far."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the colonel, settling down to business, "Alaska's in a bad +way. This fellow doesn't confine himself to 1200 up there. He uses all +sorts of wave lengths; seems to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> pleasure in mussing up important +government communications and even more in breaking in on Munson."</p> + +<p>"Munson, the Arctic explorer."</p> + +<p>"Yes. He's making a try for the Pole. Much depends upon his keeping in +touch with the outside world and this crank or crook seems determined +that he shall not."</p> + +<p>"Why don't they catch him?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see," he wrinkled his brow again, "the boys up there are +rather new at it. Don't understand the radio compass very well. The +fellow moves about and all that, so it's difficult.</p> + +<p>"I thought," he said slowly after a moment, "that you might like to +tackle the case."</p> + +<p>"Would I?" exclaimed Curlie, jumping to his feet. "Try me! Can I take +Joe along?"</p> + +<p>"As you like. Better get off pretty promptly; say day after to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Never fear. We'll be off on time."</p> + +<p>The colonel bowed and left the room.</p> + +<p>"Alaska! Alaska!" Curlie murmured after a time, "Alaska and the Yukon +trail, for of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span> course it will be that. It's too late for the boats. And +that reminds me, I made a promise to Gladys Ardmore. Only one night +left."</p> + +<p>A short time after that he put in an out-of-town telephone call. It was +a girlish voice that answered.</p> + +<p>Late the next night Curlie made his way home along the well-remembered +Forest Preserve road. He was riding in the Humming Bird. He had been to +Gladys Ardmore's party for two and a chaperon down in the little +farmhouse. The party had been a grand success and he was carrying away +pleasant memories which would serve him well on the long, long Yukon +trail and the weary and eventful miles which lay beyond its further +terminal.</p> + +<p>If you wish to learn of Curlie's adventures up there and of the secret +of the whisperer, you must read the next volume, entitled "On the Yukon +Trail."</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CURLIE CARSON LISTENS IN***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 19351-h.txt or 19351-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/3/5/19351">http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/3/5/19351</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/19351-h/images/illus-emb.png b/19351-h/images/illus-emb.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a131a3d --- /dev/null +++ b/19351-h/images/illus-emb.png diff --git a/19351.txt b/19351.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee6e66c --- /dev/null +++ b/19351.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5120 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Curlie Carson Listens In, by Roy J. Snell + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Curlie Carson Listens In + + +Author: Roy J. Snell + + + +Release Date: September 22, 2006 [eBook #19351] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CURLIE CARSON LISTENS IN*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +CURLIE CARSON LISTENS IN + +by + +ROY J. SNELL + + + + + + + +The Reilly & Lee Co. +Chicago + +Printed in the United States of America +Copyright, 1922 +by +The Reilly & Lee Co. +All Rights Reserved + + + + +Curlie Carson Listens In + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I A STRANGE MESSAGE 9 + II SOMETHING BIG 20 + III A WHISPER IN THE NIGHT 34 + IV A GAME FOR TWO 46 + V IN THE DARK 55 + VI A REAL DISCOVERY 64 + VII CURLIE RECEIVES A SHOCK 75 + VIII CURLIE MEETS A MILLIONAIRE 84 + IX A MYSTERIOUS MAP 95 + X THE FIRST LAP OF A LONG JOURNEY 107 + XI "MANY BARBARIANS AND MUCH GOLD" 117 + XII OUT TO SEA IN A COCKLESHELL 126 + XIII A GHOST WALKS 134 + XIV THE COMING STORM 141 + XV S. O. S. 151 + XVI A CONFESSION 160 + XVII A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT 170 + XVIII THE STORMY PETREL GETS AN ANSWER 177 + XIX THE MAP'S SECRET 185 + XX A SEA ABOVE A SEA 194 + XXI THE BOATS ARE GONE 203 + XXII THE WRECK OF THE KITTLEWAKE 211 + XXIII THE MIRACLE 219 + XXIV THE STORY OF THE MAP 227 + XXV OFF ON ANOTHER WILD CHASE 234 + + + + + + +CURLIE CARSON LISTENS IN + +CHAPTER I + +A STRANGE MESSAGE + + +Behind locked and barred doors, surrounded by numberless +mysterious-looking instruments, sat Curlie Carson. To the right of him +was a narrow window. Through that window, a dizzy depth below, lay the +city. Its square, flat roofs formed a mammoth checker-board. Between the +squares criss-crossed the narrow black streets. Like a white chalk-line, +drawn by a careless child, the river wound its crooked way across this +checker-board. + +To the left of him was a second narrow window. Through this he caught +the dark gleam of the broad waters of Lake Michigan. Here and there +across the surface twinkled the lamps of a vessel, or flashed the +warning beacon of a lighthouse. + +A boy in his late teens was Curlie. Slender, dark, with coal-black eyes, +with curls of the same hue clinging tightly to his well-shaped head, he +had the strong profile and the smooth tapering fingers that might belong +to an artist, a pickpocket or a detective. + +An artist Curlie was, an artist in his line--radio. Although still a +boy, he was already an operator of the "commercial, extra first-class" +type. So far as license and title were concerned, he could go no higher. +A pickpocket he was not, but a detective he might be thought to be; a +strange type of detective, however, a detective of the air; the kind +that sits in a small room hundreds of feet in air and listens; listens +to the schemes, the plots, the counterplots of men and to the wild +babble of fools. His task was that of aiding in the capture of knaves +and the silencing of foolish folks who used the newly-discovered +radiophone as their mouthpiece. + +"Foolish people," Major Whittaker, Curlie's superior, who had called +him to the service, had said, "do quite as much damage to the radio +service as crooks. Fools and knaves must alike be punished and your task +will be to help catch them." + +Wonderful ears had Curlie Carson, perhaps the most wonderful ears in the +world. In catching the fine shadings of diminishing sounds which came to +him through the radio compass, there was not a man who could excel him. + +So Curlie sat there surrounded by wire-wrapped frames, coils, keys, +buttons, switches, motors, dry-cells, storage batteries and all the odds +and ends which made up the equipment of the most perfect listening-in +station in the world. + +As he sat there with Joe Marion, his pal, by his side, his brow was +wrinkled in thought. He was reviewing the events of the previous night. +At 1:00 a.m., the witching hour when the crooked ones, the mean ones, +come creeping forth like ghosts to carry on doubtful conversations by +radio, a strange thing had happened. A message had gone crashing out +through space. Wave lengths 1200 meters long sped it on its way. There +was power enough behind it to carry it from pole to pole, but all it had +said was: + +"A slight breeze from the west." + +Three times the message had been repeated, then had come silence. There +had been no answer though Curlie had listened long for it on 1200 meter +wave lengths and five other lengths as well. + +Sudden as had come the message, fleet as had been its passing, it had +not been too fleet for Curlie. He had compassed its direction; measured +its distance. On a map of the city which lay before him he had made a +pencil cross and said: + +"It came from there." And he was right for, strange as it may seem, an +expert such as Curlie can sit in a hidden tower room such as his was and +detect the exact location of a station whose message has set his ear +drums aquiver. + +The location had puzzled him. There was not a station in the city +licensed to send 1200 meter wave lengths. The spot he had marked was the +location of the city's most magnificent apartment hotel. The hotel +possessed a radiophone set. Its antennae, hung high upon the building's +roof, were capable of carrying that 1200 meter message with all that +power behind it, but the radio equipment of the hotel had no such power. + +"Something crooked about that," he had mumbled to himself. + +His first impulse had been to call the police. He did not act upon it. +They might blunder. The thing might get out. This law-breaker might +escape. Not five people in all the world knew of Curlie's detecting +station. He would work out this problem alone. + +Now, as he sat thinking of it, he decided to confide this new secret to +his pal, Joe Marion. + +"Yes," he told himself, "I'll tell him about it at chow." + +At this moment his mind was recalled to other matters. New trouble was +brewing. + +"A slight breeze from the west," his mind went over the message +automatically, "and the wind was due east. Don't mean much as it stands, +but I suspect means a lot more than it seems to." + +Just above Curlie's head there hung a receiver. To the right and left of +him were two loud-speakers. Before him ranged three others. Each one of +these was tuned to a certain wave length, 200, 350, 500, 600, 1200 +meters. Each was modulated down until sounds came to Curlie's delicately +tuned ear drums as little more than whispers. A concert was being +broadcast on 350. The booming tones of a baritone had been coming in as +softly and sweetly as a mother's lullaby. But now Curlie's ear detected +interference. + +Instantly he was all alert. The receiver was clamped down over his ears, +a half dozen switches were sent, snap, snap, snap. There followed a dead +silence. Then in a shrill boyish voice, together with the baritone's +renewal of his song, there came: + +"I want the world to know that I am a wireless operator, op-er-a-a-tor. +Hoop-la! Tra-la!" + +Curlie smiled in spite of his vexation. He acted quickly and with +precision. His slender fingers guided a coil-wound frame from right to +left. Backward and forward it glided, and as it moved the boyish +"Hoop-la" rose and fell. Almost instantly it came to a standstill. + +"There! That's it!" he breathed. + +Then to Joe Marion, "It's a shame about those kids. They won't learn to +play the game square. Don't know the rules and don't care. Think we +can't catch 'em, I guess." + +His hand went out for a telephone. + +"Superior 2231," he purred. + +"That you, 2231? Just a moment." + +He touched a key here, another there. He twisted a knob there, then: +"That you, Mulligan?" he half whispered. "Good! There's a kid on your +beat got a wireless running wild. Yes. Broke in on the concert. Don't be +hard on him. No license? Yes, guess that's right. Take away his sending +set. Give him another chance? Let him listen in. What's that? Location? +Clarendon Street, near Orton Place; about second door, I'd say. That's +all right. Thanks, yourself." + +Dropping the receiver on its hook he tossed off his headpiece, snapped +at five buttons, then settled back in his chair. + +"These kids'll be the death of me yet," he grumbled. "Always breaking +in, not meaning any harm but doing harm all the same. I don't feel so +very sore about them though. It's the fellows that go in for long wave +lengths and high power, that break in on 500, 1200 and 1800, that do the +real damage. Had a queer case last night. Looks crooked, too." He was +silent for a moment then he said reflectively: + +"Guess that's about all till midnight. It's after midnight that the +queer birds come creeping out. I'm going to tell you about that one last +night, over the ham sandwich, dill pickle and coffee. No use to try +now--we'd sure get broken in on." + +Joe Marion, who had been taken on as an understudy by Curlie, was at the +present time working without pay. At times when trouble developed on +two different wave lengths at once, he took a hand and helped out. For +the most part he merely looked, listened and learned. + +His pal he held in the greatest admiration. And who would not? Had he +not, when this great big new thing, the radiophone, came leaping right +into the world from nowhere, been able to take a hand from the very +beginning and become at once a valuable servant of his beloved country? +Had he not at times detected meddlers who were endangering the lives of +men upon the high seas? Had he not at one time received the highest of +commendations from the great chief of this secret service of the air? + +To Joe there was something weirdly fascinating about the whole business. +Here they were, two boys in the tower of the highest building in a great +city. Five people knew of their presence. These five were high up in the +radio secret service. No message sent out by them could ever be traced +back to its source. They did not use the air. That would be dangerous, +easily traced. They did not use the telephone alone. That, too, would be +dangerous. But when a radiophone had been connected to the telephone +wire and tuned to a certain wave length, then they talked and not even +the person they talked with would ever know whence came the message. +This was a necessary precaution for, from this very tower, dangerous +bands of criminals, gangs of smugglers, and all other types of +law-breakers would ultimately be brought to justice. And if these but +knew of the presence of this boy in his tower room, some dark night that +tower would be rocked by an exploding bomb and the boy in his room would +be shaken to earth like a young mud-wasp in his nest. + +"I'll tell you," said Curlie, as he rose to answer a tap on the door, "I +believe that affair last night was some big thing; but what it was I +can't even guess." + +He opened the door to let in Coles Masters, his relief, then motioning +to Joe he took his cap and left the room. Down the winding stairs which +led to the elevator several stories lower down they made their way in +silence, at last to enter a cage and be silently dropped to the ground +hundreds of feet below. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +SOMETHING BIG + + +"You see," Curlie began as he crossed his slim legs beside a small table +in an all-night lunch room, buried somewhere in the deep recesses of +this same skyscraper, "that fellow sent the message about the easterly +breeze that blew west and I located the station at that hotel. This +morning I went over to see how the place looked. It's a wonderful hotel, +that one; palm garden in the middle of it, marble columns, fountain, +painted sheet iron ceiling that'd make you dizzy to look at, and the +finest dressed people you ever saw walking around everywhere. + +"Well, I found my way to the sending room of the radiophone and right +away the operator wanted to throw me out; said I was a fresh kid and +all that. But when I showed him my papers, he calmed down a lot and +showed me everything he had. + +"I saw right away it wasn't his equipment that had sent that +message--that'd be like sending a Big Bertha bomb into Paris with a +twenty-two caliber rifle. He just naturally didn't have the power, +that's all. So I didn't tell him anything about it; just walked out and +went around back to where I could see the way his wires ran from the +sending room to the antenna. + +"I hadn't any more than got there and had one look-up when along strolls +a man who wants to know what I'm looking at. I saw right away that he +wasn't a hotel employee for he didn't wear either a bandmaster's uniform +nor a cutaway coat, so I just smiled and said: + +"Got a girl friend up there on the sixteenth floor. She's leaving this +morning and arranged to drop her trunk down to me so's not to have to +tip the porter. + +"Well, sir, I hadn't more than said that than a girl did pop her head +out of a sixteenth floor window and stare straight down at me. + +"The fellow actually dodged. Guess he thought the trunk was due any +minute. + +"Funny part of it was the girl actually seemed interested in me, just as +if she had met me somewhere before. Of course she was too high up for me +to tell what she was like, but it made me mighty curious. I counted the +windows to right and left so I could find that room if I wanted to. The +window was only the third to the right from where the lead wire to the +antenna went up. + +"Well, then, that fellow--" + +"Mr. Carson?" a voice interrupted Curlie. "Anyone here by the name of +Carson?" It came from the desk-clerk of the eating place. + +"That's me," exclaimed Curlie, jumping up. + +"Telephone." + +"All right. Be back in a minute, Joe." Curlie was away to answer the +call. + +"'Lo. That you, Curlie?" came through the receiver. "This is Coles +Masters. Got a bad case--extra bad. Can't understand it. Fellow's +sending 600 meter waves, with enough power to cross the Atlantic." + +"Six hundred!" exclaimed Curlie in a tense whisper. "Why, that's what +they use for S.O.S. at sea! It's criminal. Endangers every ship in +distress. Five years in prison for it. Get him, can't you?" + +"Can't. That's the trouble. Every time I think I've got him spotted he +seems to move." + +"To move!" + +"Yes, sir." + +"That's queer! I'll be up right away." + +"Come on," exclaimed Curlie, grabbing his hat and dragging Joe to his +feet. "It's a big one. Moves, he says. Sends 600; big power. Bet it's +that same hotel fellow. Gee whiz! Supposing it turned out to be that +sixteenth story girl and she caught me spying on her. I tell you it's +something big!" + +Impatient at the slowness of the up-shooting elevator, Curlie at last +leaped out before the iron door at the top was half open, then two +steps at a time sprang up a flight of stairs. Out of breath, he arrived +at the final landing, sprang through the door to the secret tower room, +then seizing his headpiece, sank into a chair. + +By a single move of the hand, Coles Masters indicated the radio-compass +he had been listening in on. + +"That's where he was, last time he spoke," he grumbled, "but no telling +where he'll be next. He's been dodging all over that stretch of +country." + +Curlie's fingers moved rapidly. He adjusted the coil of a radio-compass +here, another there and still another here. He twisted the knob of each +to the 600 mark, then, twisting the tuning knobs, lined them all up to +receive on the same wave length. The winding of each was set at a +slightly different angle from any other. + +"That about covers him," he mumbled. "Get the distance?" + +"Near as I could make out," said Coles Masters, "it was from ten to +fifteen miles. He moves toward us, then away at times, just as he does +to right and left." + +"Hm," sighed Curlie, resting his chin on his hands. "That's a new dodge, +this moving business. Complicates things, that does." + +For a time he sat in a brown study. At last he spoke again, this time +quite as much to himself as to the other: + +"Folks don't move unless they have a way to move. That fellow has some +means of locomotion. Anyway," he sighed, "it's not our friend of the big +hotel unless--unless he or she or whoever it is has taken to locomotion, +and that's not likely. Not the same side of the city. Out near the +forest preserve." + +"Yes, or a little beyond," said Coles. + +"What do you think," asked Curlie suddenly, "has he got an automobile or +an airplane?" + +"Can't tell," said Coles thoughtfully. "You can't really judge distances +in air accurately. There are powerful equipments which might be mounted +on either automobiles or airplanes." + +"The thing that puzzled me, though, was his line of chatter. All about +some 'map, old French,' and a lot of stuff like that. I--" + +Suddenly he broke off. A grinding sound had come from one of the loud +speakers. There followed in a clear, strong voice: + +"Map O.K. Old French is amazing. Good for a million." + +Curlie's fingers were busy once more as a tense look drew his forehead +into a scowl. + +"About fifteen miles," he whispered. + +Then the voice resumed: + +"Time up the bird. When?" + +A tense silence ensued. Then, faint, as if from far away, yet very +distinctly there came the single word: + +"Wednesday." This was followed by three letters distinctly pronounced: +"L.C.W." + +A second later came the strong voice in answer: "A.C.S." + +"That," said Curlie as he settled back in his chair, "in my estimation +ends the night's entertainment. But the nerve of the fellow!" he +exploded. "Sending that kind of rot on six hundred. Why, at this very +moment some disabled ship might be struggling in a storm on the Great +Lakes or even on the Atlantic, and this jumble of words would muddle up +their message so its meaning would be lost and the ship with it. The +worst I could wish for such a fellow is that he be dropped into the sea +with some means of keeping afloat but with neither food nor drink and a +ship nowhere in sight." + +If Curlie had known how exactly this wish was to be granted in the days +that were to come, he might have experienced some strange sensations. + +He straightened up and placed a dot on the map before him. + +"That's where he was. I'll motor out in the morning and have a look at +things. May discover some clew." + +Curlie was a bright American boy of the very best type. Like most +American boys who do not have riches thrust upon them, when he wanted a +thing he made it or made a way to get it. Three years previous he had +wanted an automobile--wanted it awfully. And his total capital had been +$49.63. He had been wanting that car for some time when an express train +hit a powerful roadster on a crossing near his home. + +Having flocked in with the throng to view the twisted remains of the +car, he had been struck with an idea. This idea he had put into action. +The railroad had settled with the owner for the car. They had the wreck +of it on their hands. Curlie bought it for twenty-five dollars. + +To his great delight he had found the powerful motor practically +uninjured. The driving gear too, with the exception of one cog wheel, +was in workable order. The remainder of the car he sold to a junk dealer +for five dollars. It was twisted and broken beyond redemption. + +He had next searched about for a discarded chassis on which to mount his +gears and motor. This search rewarded, he had proceeded to assemble his +car. And one fine day he sailed out upon the street with the "Humming +Bird," as he had named her. + +"Better call her 'Gravel Car,'" Joe had said when he saw that she had no +body at all and that he must ride with his feet thrust straight out +before him in a homemade seat bolted to a buckboard-like platform. + +But when, on a level stretch of road, Curlie had "let her out," Joe had +at once acquired an immense respect for the Humming Bird. "For," he said +later, "she can hum and she can go like a streak of light, and that's +about all any humming bird can do." + +No further messages of importance having drifted in to him from the +outer air, Curlie, an hour before dinner, made his way down to the +street and, having warmed up the Humming Bird's motor, muttered as he +sprang into the seat: "I'll just run out there and see what I see." + +A half hour later, just as the first gray streak of dawn was appearing, +he curved off onto a gravel road. Here he threw his car over to one side +and, switching on a flashlight, steered with one hand while he bent +over the side to examine the left-hand track. + +There had been a light rain at ten that night. Since that time a heavy +car with diamond-tread tires had passed along the road, leaving its +tracks in certain soft, sandy spots. + +"Maybe that's him," Curlie murmured. + +A little farther on, stopping his machine, he got out and walked along +the road. Examining the surface closely, he walked on for five rods, +then wheeled about and made his way back to the car. + +"He was over this road three times last night. That looks like a warm +scent. Can't tell, though. My friend might not have been in a car at +all; might have been in a plane. + +"We'll have a look at the very spot." He twirled the wheel and was away. + +A half mile farther down the road, he paused to look at a map. "Not +quite here," he murmured. "About a quarter mile farther." + +The car crept over another quarter of a mile. When he again came to a +halt he found himself on a stretch of paved road. "This is the spot +from which the last message was sent. Tough luck!" he muttered. "Can't +tell a thing here." + +Glancing to his right, he sat up with a start. He had suddenly become +aware of the fact that he was just before the gate of the estate of J. +Anson Ardmore, reputed to be the richest man of the city. + +"Huh!" Curlie grunted. "Car must have stood about here when that last +message was sent. Maybe it went up that lane. Maybe it didn't, too. J. +Anson's got a son, about my age I guess. Vincent they call him. He might +be up to something. There's a girl, too, sixteen or so. Can't tell what +these rich folks will do." + +He stepped down the rich man's private drive, but here the surface of +crushed stone was so perfectly kept that no telltale mark was to be +seen. + +He did not venture far, as he had no relish for being caught trespassing +on such an estate without some good explanation for his conduct. Just at +that moment he had no desire to explain. + +As he turned to go back, he caught the thud-thud of hoof beats along the +private drive. + +Fortunately the abundant shrubbery hid him from view. Hardly had he +reached the machine and assumed the attitude of one hunting trouble in +his engine when a girl rounded a corner at full gallop. + +Dressed in full riding costume and mounted on a blooded horse, she swung +along as graceful as a lark. As she came into the public highway she +flashed Curlie a look and a smile. Then she was gone. + +Curlie liked the smile even if it did come from one of the "four +hundred." + +"Gee! Old Humming Bird," he exclaimed as he patted his car, "did she +mean that smile for you or for me? So there might be a girl in the case, +same as there seems to be in that one over at the hotel? Girl in most +every case. What if she sent those messages and I found her out? That +would sure be tough. + +"But business is business!" He set his mouth grimly. "You can't fool +with old Uncle Sam, not when you're endangering the lives of some of +his bravest sons at sea." + +He threw in the clutch and drove slowly along the road. Twice he paused +to examine the tracks made the night before. Each time he discovered +marks of the diamond tread. + +"That radiophone was mounted on a car," he decided; "I'll stake my life +on that. Now if he keeps it up, how am I to catch him?" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A WHISPER IN THE NIGHT + + +The next night found Curlie in the secret tower room alone. Joe Marion +was away helping to run down a case of "malicious interference." + +It was curious business, this work of the radio secret service. Though +he had been at it for months, Curlie had never quite got used to it. A +detective he was in the truest sense of the word, yet how different from +the kind one reads about in books. + +He laughed as he thought of it now. Then as his tapering fingers +adjusted a screw, his brow became suddenly wrinkled in thought. He was +troubled by the two cases which had lately developed: the one at the +hotel and that other, the station that moved. How was he to locate that +powerful secret station in the hotel? How was he to discover the owner +of that mysterious moving radio? He could not answer these questions. +And yet somehow they must be answered. He knew that. + +The operator in the hotel was sending on 1200 meter wave lengths. State +messages were constantly being sent across the Atlantic on 1200; +messages of the greatest importance. There was a conference of nations +at that moment going on in Europe. America's representative must be kept +in constant touch with the government officials at Washington. If this +person at the hotel persisted in sending messages on 1200 meter wave +lengths an important message might at any moment be blurred or lost. + +Not less important was the breaking in of this moving operator on 600. +This was the wave length used by ships and by harbor stations. Great +steamships sometimes waited for hours to get a message ashore on 600. If +this person were to be allowed to break in upon them they might wait +hours longer. Thousands of dollars would be lost. And then, as we have +said before, the message of some ship in distress might be lost because +of this person's interference. + +"When, oh, when," sighed Curlie, "will people become used to this new +thing, the radiophone? When will they learn that it is a great, new +servant of mankind and not a toy? When will they take time to instruct +themselves regarding the rights of others? When will they develop a +conscience which will compel them to consider those rights?" + +The answer which came to his mind was, "Perhaps never. But little by +little they will learn some things. It is my duty not alone to detect +but to teach." + +He shifted uneasily in his chair, then held his ear close to the loud +speaker tuned to 200. A message came floating in to him across the air, +a mysterious whispered message. + +"Hello, Curlie," it said. "You don't know me, but you have seen me--" + +Automatically Curlie's fingers moved the radio-compass backward and +forward while his mind gauged the distance. His right hand scrawled +some figures on a pad, and all the time his ears were strained to catch +the whisper. + +"I have seen you," it went on, "and I like your looks. That's why I'm +talking now." + +For a second the whisper ceased. There was something awe-inspiring about +that whisper. As he sat in his secret chamber away up there against the +sky, Curlie felt as if some spirit-being was floating about out there in +the sky on a fleecy cloud and pausing now and then to whisper to him. + +"I saw you," the whisper repeated. "You are in very grave danger. He is +a bold and treacherous man. It's big, Curlie, _big_!" The whisper rose +shrilly. "But you must be careful. You must not let him know the place +where you listen in. I don't know where it is. But I do know you listen +in. Be careful--careful--careful, c-a-r-e-f-u-l-" The whisper trailed +off into space, to be lost in thin air. + +Wiping the beads of perspiration from his face, Curlie sat up. "Well, +now," he whispered softly to himself, "what do you know about that? + +"One thing I do know," he told himself. "I'd swear it was a girl's +whisper, though how you can tell a girl's whisper is more than I know. +Question is: Which one is it--hotel station or the one that moves?" + +For a moment his brow wrinkled in thought. Then with an exclamation of +disgust he exclaimed: + +"That's easy! I've got their location!" + +He figured for a few seconds, then put a pencil point on a certain spot +on his map. + +"There!" he muttered. "It's the hotel, the exact spot." + +Suddenly he started. There came the rattle of a key in the door. + +"Oh!" he exclaimed as Coles Masters shoved the door open, "it's you. I'm +glad you're here. Got something I want to look into. Want to bad. Mind +if I take an extra hour?" + +"Nope." + +"All right. See you later." With a bound he was out of the door and +down the stairs. + +"That boy," muttered Coles Masters, with a grin, "will either die young +or become famous. Only Providence knows which it will be." + +Curlie did not leave the elevator at the first floor. Dropping down to +the sub-basement, he wound his way in and out through a labyrinth of +dimly lighted halls, at last to climb a stair to the first basement. +Then, having passed into his accustomed eating place, he paused long +enough to purchase a Swiss cheese sandwich, after which, with cap pulled +well down over his eyes, he made his way up a second flight of stairs +into the outer air. + +He shivered as he emerged into the open street. Whether this chill came +from the damp cool of the night or from nervous excitement, he could not +tell. The memory of the whispered warning bore heavily upon his mind. + +Turning his face resolutely in the direction of the hotel, he walked +three blocks, then hailed a passing taxi. When the taxi dropped him, a +few minutes later, he was still four blocks from the point of his +destination. Covering this distance with rapid strides, he came to the +rear of the hotel. There, dodging past a line of waiting taxis, he came +at length to a dark corner where a stone bench made an angle with the +wall of a building directly behind the hotel. + +Crouching in this corner, he glanced rapidly from right to left to learn +whether or not his arrival had been detected. Satisfied that for the +moment he was safe, he cast a glance upward to where the aerials of the +radiophone glistened in the moonlight. From that point he allowed his +gaze to drop steadily downward until it reached the windows of the +sixteenth floor. There it remained fixed for a full moment. + +There came from between his teeth a sudden intake of breath. + +Had he seen some movement at the window to the right of the wires that +led to the aerials? He must see, no matter how great the risk. + +Drawing a small pair of binoculars from his pocket, he fixed them on the +spot. He then turned a screw at the side of the binocular and suddenly +there appeared upon the wall of the building a round spot of brilliant +light. The size of a plate, this mysterious spot moved rapidly backward +and forward until it at last rested upon the wires by the window. + +"Ah!" came in an involuntary whisper from the boy's lips. + +A hand, the slender, graceful hand of a girl had been clearly outlined +against the wall. Quickly as it had been withdrawn, Curlie had seen that +between the thumb and finger of that hand was the end of a wire. + +"Been tapping the aerial. A girl!" he muttered incredulously. "And it +was she who whispered to me out of the night." + +He had been crouching low. Now he rose, stretched himself, pocketed his +instrument and was about to make his way out of the yard when, with the +suddenness of a tiger, a body launched itself upon his back. + +So unexpected was the assault that the boy's body closed up like a jack +knife. He fell, face down, completely doubled up, with his face between +his knees. + +"Now I got yuh!" was snarled into his ear. The weight on his back was +crushing. He could scarcely breathe. + +"You--you have," he managed to groan. + +"You'll come along," said the voice. + +Curlie did not speak nor stir. The weight was partly lifted from his +back. The man had dropped one foot to the ground. + +Now Curlie, had he been properly exercised for it when he was a child, +might have turned out a fair contortionist. He was exceedingly slim and +limber and had learned many of the tricks of the contortionist. He had +done this merely to amuse his friends. Now the tricks stood him in good +stead. + +He did not attempt to rise by straightening up, as most persons would +have done. When the pressure grew less, he lay still doubled up, face +down upon the ground. + +This gave him two advantages. It led his assailant to believe him +injured in some way and at the same time left him in position for the +next move. + +When the pressure had been sufficiently removed for his purpose, he took +a quick, strong breath, then with a rush which set every muscle in +action, he thrust his head between his knees, gripped his own ankles and +did a double turn over which resembled nothing so much as a boulder +rolling down hill. + +The next instant, finding himself free, he sprang to his feet, dodged +behind a taxi, shot past three moving cars, leaped to the pavement, +skirted a wall, then dodged into an alley. + +Down this alley there was a doorway. Into the shadow of this doorway he +threw himself. There was a hole in the wooden door. A hook could be +reached through the hole. The hook quickly lifted, he found himself +inside a narrow court at the back of a large apartment building. There +was a driveway from this court into the street beyond. + +Assuming a natural pace, he made his way down this driveway and out into +the street where, with a low whistled tune, he made his way back toward +the heart of the city. Five blocks farther down he paused to adjust his +clothing. + +"Wow! but that was a close one," he muttered. "Don't know who my heavy +friend was but he sure wanted to detain me for some reason or other. But +say!" he mused; "how about that girl? Hope I didn't get her in bad by +flashing that light on her hand. + +"But then," he thought more soberly, "perhaps she is the principal bad +one. Perhaps she is whispering on 200 just to mislead me. Who knows? +You've got to be wise as a serpent when you play this game, that's what +you've got to be. There's just two kinds of radio detectives, the quick +and the dead." He chuckled dryly. + +"Well, I guess Coles Masters will think I'm one of the dead ones if I +don't rush on." + +Hurrying to the next street, he boarded a car to make his way back to +the secret lower room. + +During his absence things had been happening in the mysterious radio +world that hangs like a filmy ghost-land above the sleeping world. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A GAME FOR TWO + + +As Curlie slipped noiselessly through the door into the secret tower +room, he was seized by the arm and dragged into his chair. + +"Man! where have you been?" It was Coles Masters. He spoke in an excited +whisper. "Listen to that! It's the second message. He'll repeat it +again. They always do." + +As Curlie listened, his face grew grave with concern. The message came +from the head station of the radiophone secret service bureau. That +station was located in New York. The message was a reprimand. Kindly, +friendly but firmly, it told Curlie that for two nights now someone in +his area had been breaking in on 600. Coast-to-ship messages had been +disturbed. Once an S. O. S. from a disabled fishing schooner had barely +escaped being lost. Something must be done about it at once! By Curlie! +In Chicago! + +With parted lips and bated breath Curlie listened to the message as it +came to him in code. Then, with trembling fingers, he adjusted a lever, +touched a button, turned a screw and dictated to a station in another +part of the city his answering O.K. to the message. + +"Of course," he said to Coles, as he lifted the receiver from his head, +"that means that this fellow that races all over the map has been at it +again to-night." + +"About an hour ago," said Coles, wrinkling his brow. + +"What did you do about it?" + +"What was there to do? I tried to locate him. He danced about, first +here, then there. I marked his locations. They were never the same. +See," he pointed to the map. "I numbered them. He spoke from five +different points." + +"What did he say?" + +"It's all written down there," Coles motioned to a pad. "Can't make +head nor tail to it. Something about a map, an airplane, a boat and a +lot of gold." + +"What kind of voice?" + +"Sounded young. Some boy in late teens, I'd say. Though it might have +been a girl. She might have changed her voice to disguise it. You can't +tell. Had two cases like that in the last three weeks. You never can +tell about voices." + +"No," said Curlie, thoughtfully, "you never can tell. That's about the +only thing you can be sure of in this strange old world. You can always +be sure that you never can tell. Thing that looks like one thing always +turns out to be something else. + +"Point is," he continued after a moment's deep thought, "somebody's +getting past our guard. Slamming us right in the nose and we're not +doing a thing about it. Don't look like we could. I've got a theory but +you can't go searching the estate of the richest man in your city just +on theory; you've got to have facts to back you up, and mighty definite +facts, too." + +"Yes, that's right," agreed Coles. "But what do you make out of all that +babble about airplane, map, ship and much gold? Do you suppose it's some +smuggling scheme, some plan to get a lot of Russian or Austrian jewels +into the country without paying duty or something like that?" + +"I don't make anything out of that," said Curlie rather sharply, "and +for the time, I don't jolly much care. The thing I'm interested in is +the fact that we're being beaten; that the air about us is being torn to +shreds every night by some careless or criminal person; that we're +getting a black eye and a reprimand from the department; that sea +traffic is being interrupted; that lives are being imperiled and we +can't seem to do anything about it. That's what's turning my liver dark +black!" He pounded the desk before him until instruments rattled and +wires sang. + +"But how you are going to catch a fellow when he goes tearing all over +the map," said Curlie, more calmly, "is exactly what I don't know. You +go down and get a bite of chow. No, go on home and go to bed. I'll take +the rest of the shift. I want to think. I think best when I'm alone; +when the wires sing me a song; when the air whispers to me out of the +night; when the ghosts of dead radio-men, ghosts of operators who joked +with death when the sea was reaching up mighty arms to drag them down, +come back to talk to me. That's when I think best. These whispering +ghosts tell me things. When I sit here all, asleep but my ears, things +seem to come to me." + +"Bah!" said Coles Masters, shivering, "you give me the creeps." + +Drawing on his coat, he slipped out of the door, leaving Curlie slumped +down in his chair already all asleep but his wonderful ears. + +For a full hour he sat lumped up there. Seeming scarcely to breathe, +stirring now and then as in sleep, he continued to listen and to dream. + +Then suddenly he sat up with a start to exclaim out loud: + +"Yes! That's it. Catch a thief with a thief. Catch a radiophone with a +radiophone. A radiophone on wheels? That's a game two can play at. I'll +do it! To-morrow night." + +Snapping up a telephone receiver he murmured: + +"Central 662." + +A moment later he tuned an instrument and threw on a switch; "Weightman +there?" he inquired. "Asleep? Wake him up. This is Curlie Carson. Yes, +it's important. No, I'll tell you. Don't bother to wake him now--have +him over at the Coffee Shop at five bells. The Coffee Shop. He'll know. +Don't fail! It's important!" + +He snapped down the receiver. Weightman was the radio mechanic assigned +to his station. He would have unusual and important work to do that day. + +He slumped down again in his chair but did not remain in that position +many minutes. + +From one of the loud speakers came a persistent whisper: + +"Hello. Hello, Curlie, you there?" the girlish voice purred, the one +that had whispered to him before. "I saw you to-night. That was +dangerous. Why did you do it? Nearly got me in bad. Not quite. He almost +got you." + +The whisper ceased. Adjusting the campus coil Curlie sat at strained +attention. + +"I wish I knew you were listening," came again. "It's hard to be +whispering into the night and not knowing you're being heard." + +Curlie's fingers moved nervously over a tuner knob. He was sorely +tempted to tune in and flash an answering "O.K.," if nothing more. + +But, no, he drew his hands resolutely back. It was not wise. There was +danger in it. This might be a trap. They might locate his secret tower +room by that single O.K. Then disaster would follow. + +The whisper came again: "You're clever, Curlie, awfully clever. The way +you doubled over and turned yourself wrong side out was great! But +please do be careful. It's big, Curlie, big!" again the whisper rose +almost to speaking tone. "And he is a terribly determined man; wouldn't +stop at anything." + +The whisper ceased. + +For a moment Curlie sat there lost in reflection, then he muttered +savagely: "Oh! get off the air, you little whispering mystery, you're +spoiling my technique. Your very terrible friend didn't send any message +to-night and the one he sent before hasn't got us into any trouble. I've +got to forget you and go after this moving fellow who sends 600." + +As if in answer to his challenge the loud speaker to his right, the one +tuned to 1200, began to rattle. Then, in the full, determined tones of a +man accustomed to speak with authority there came: + +"Calm night." + +Three times, over five thousand miles of air, this great voice bellowed +its message. + +The silence which followed was ghostly. Cold perspiration stood out on +Curlie's brow. + +It was not necessary for him to calculate the location from which this +message was sent. He knew that it had come from the hotel. And it had. + +"Next thing," he told himself with a groan, "the International Service +will be on my back for letting that lion roar. I ought to turn that over +to the police; but I won't, not just yet." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +IN THE DARK + + +As the clock in a distant college tower struck the hour of eleven the +following night, a flat looking car with a powerful engine stole out +into the road that ran by the Forest Preserve. It was the Humming Bird. +Joe Marion was at the wheel. Curlie sat beside him. + +On the back of the car was a miscellaneous pile of instruments all +securely clamped down. Above there hung suspended between two vertical +bars a square frame from which there gleamed the copper wires of a coil. + +To catch a radiophone on wheels, Curlie had reasoned, one must mount his +radio compass on wheels and pursue the offender. How well it would work, +he could not even guess, but anything was better than sitting there +helpless in the secret tower room listening to this person tearing up +the air in a manner both unwise and unlawful. + +So here they were, prepared to make the test. + +"Of course," Curlie grumbled, "now we've got the trap set, the ghost may +decide not to walk on this particular night. That'll be part of our +rotten luck." + +"Most ghosts, I'm told," chuckled Joe, "prefer to walk when there's +someone about, for what's the good of a ghost-walk when there's no one +to see. So our radio ghost may show up after all." + +Curlie lapsed into silence. He was reviewing the events which led up to +this thrilling moment. When the message on 600 came banging to his ears +with great power on that first night, he had carefully platted the +various locations of the person who had sent the messages. There had +been some criss-crosses shown but, in the main, a line drawn through +these points had formed an oblong which on the actual surface of the +ground must have been some ten miles in length by six in width. One +interesting point was that the first and last messages of that night had +been sent at points not a quarter of a mile apart. + +"Which goes to show," he reasoned, "that this fellow started from a +certain point and made his way back to that point, just as a rabbit will +do when chased by a hound. And those two points, the start and the +finish, are close to the driveway into the million dollar estate. But of +course that doesn't prove that the car came from there. Any person could +drive to that point, begin operations, race over the square and return +to the point." + +Coles Masters had platted the points for the second night. A line drawn +through these points made a figure quite irregular in form, which was, +however, composed of rectangles. + +"Which proves," he told himself, "that our friend, the lawless radio +fan, drives an auto and not an airplane. An auto follows roads, which +for the most part in this section form squares. He passed along two or +three sides of these squares and this makes up the figure. + +"There's only one thing in common in the two night journeys," he +continued. "The start and finish are at almost exactly the same spot, +near the entrance of that great estate." + +He tried not to allow these facts to cause him to hold undue suspicion +against the inhabitants of that mansion, but in this he experienced some +difficulty. + +"The thing for us to do," he had said to Joe, "is to run out there and +back our car into an unfrequented, wooded road running into the forest +preserve. We don't dare go too near the original starting place. If +we're seen with this load of junk it will give us dead away. Thing is to +be ready to move quickly when he lets loose with his message. Ought not +to be more than a mile away, I'd say. He's got a powerful car. You can +tell that by the fact that he sent a message at this corner, then raced +over here, four miles distant, and got another message off in eleven +minutes, which is quick action." + +They backed into the grass-grown road of the Forest Preserve, then +settled down in their places to wait. + +The night was dark. There was no moon. Clouds were scurrying overhead. +Only the rustle of leaves and the startled tweet-tweet of some bird +surprised in his sleep disturbed the utter silence of the woods. + +"Ghostly," whispered Joe, then he lapsed into silence. + +With his slim legs stretched out before him, Curlie was soon asleep, all +but his ears. Joe insisted that those ears never slept. + +A half hour, an hour, an hour and a half dragged by. Joe had gone quite +to sleep when Curlie suddenly dug him in the ribs and uttered the +shrilly whispered warning: + +"Hist! There she blows!" + +A flashlight was snapped on. Curlie's fingers flew from instrument to +instrument. The voice of the mysterious operator could be heard. Now +rising, now falling, it filled the woods with echoes, yet the speaker +was more than a mile away, as near as the boys could guess. + +The words spoken by him were now of no importance. Location was +everything. + +"Same place," exclaimed Curlie, "exactly the same! You know where! Drive +like mad!" + +Instantly the car lurched forward. Coming out of the bush on two wheels, +she sent a shower of gravel flying as she rushed madly down the road. + +Quick as they were, the quarry had been quicker. As they rounded a +corner, they caught the red gleam of a tail-light disappearing at the +next turn. + +"Heck!" said Curlie, then, "Let her out! Show him some speed." + +The motor of the Humming Bird sang joyously. Fairly eating up the road, +she took the corner with a wide swing. But when they looked down the +long stretch of highway there was no red tail-light to be seen. + +"Heck!" said Curlie again, "he's reached the next crossroad and turned +the corner. Can't tell which way he went. It's a hard, dry gravel +roadbed--won't tell a thing. Best we can do is to rattle along up there, +then sit it out for another listen-in." + +Disappointed but not disheartened, Curlie adjusted his instruments, then +sat in breathless expectation. + +He did not have long to wait, for again the voice in the loud speaker +boomed out into the night. + +"Huh," he grumbled a few seconds later, "he's got three miles lead on +us. To the right. Quick, give her the gas." + +Again they were off. For two miles and a half straight ahead they raced. +The Humming Bird quivered like a leaf, instruments jingling in spite of +their lashings. + +"Make it all the way," said Curlie, as Joe slowed up. "He's not there. +Given us the slip again." + +Six times this program was gone through with. Not once in all that time +did they catch sight of that tail-light. + +"Some car he's got!" said Curlie when the farce was ended. "Bet he +never even guessed he was being chased. But you wait; we'll get him +yet." + +When they were once more in the secret tower room Curlie plotted the +route of the mysterious operator. + +"Only significant thing about that," he commented, when he had finished, +"is that he starts and finishes within a quarter of a mile of the same +place as on the other two nights." + +"And that place--" suggested Joe. + +"Is near old J. Anson's driveway." + +"Looks mighty suspicious to me," said Joe. + +"Does to me, too; but, as I have said before, you can't raid a man's +private castle on any such flimsy proof as that. You've got to have the +goods. + +"Tell you what," he said after a moment's silence, "sometimes our +natural ears and eyes are better than all these instruments and wires. +I'm going out there to-morrow night alone and on foot." + +"Might work," said Joe thoughtfully, "but whatever you do, you must be +careful." + +"Careful?" said Curlie scornfully. "There are times when a fellow can't +afford to be careful. This thing's getting serious." He glanced over a +second message from the head office of his bureau. It was couched in no +gentle terms. He was told that this intruder must be caught and that at +once if he, Curlie Carson, wished to hold his position as chief of the +secret tower room station. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A REAL DISCOVERY + + +Darkness found Curlie again on the edge of the Forest Preserve. This +time he was on foot and alone. Apparently he carried nothing. His right +hip pocket bulged, the handle of a flashlight protruded from his coat +pocket, that was all. + +He did not pause at the spot where they had hid their car the night +before, but continued down the main road for a half mile farther. There +he plunged into the forest, to continue his journey under cover. Eleven +o'clock found him concealed in a clump of bushes in the woods that lay +opposite the millionaire's driveway. + +"If they come to-night," he whispered to himself, "I'll know whether +they belong on that estate or not, and if they do I'll know who it is. +Anyway, I'll know it's one of J. Anson's folks. And we'll see if it is +a boy or the girl?" + +The question interested him. He had no relish for getting a girl into +trouble, especially that frank-faced, smiling girl he had seen on +horseback. + +"But the thing must stop," he told himself sternly, taking a tight grip +on something in his hip pocket. + +The night was clear. He could see objects quite plainly. The trees, the +shrubbery, the stone pillars at the entrance to the driveway, stood out +in bold relief. For a time he sat staring at them in silence. At last he +closed his eyes and slept, as was his custom, all but his ears. + +He was startled from this stupor by a sudden flash of light which made +its presence felt even through his eyelids. + +As his eyes flew open, he found himself staring at two glowing +headlights. The next instant he had flattened himself in the grass. + +"Wow! Hope they didn't see me!" he whispered. + +A low-built, powerful car had come purring so quietly down the driveway +of the estate that it had rounded a sudden curve before he had been +aware of its presence. + +Now, with undiminished speed, it turned to the right, entered the public +highway and sped straight on. + +As Curlie rose from the grass to stare after it, a low exclamation +escaped his lips. Supported by high parallel bars, which were doubtless +in turn supported by strong guy wires, were the aerials of a radiophone. +The whole of this rose from, and rested upon, the body of the powerful +roadster. + +"And I missed them!" he exploded, then: + +"No, I didn't. They're stopping." + +It was true. Some eighty rods down the road the car had slowed up. He +had no means of telling what they were doing but felt quite warranted in +supposing they were sending a message. + +Like a flash he was away through the brush. Speed and the utmost caution +were necessary. If a limb cracked, if he fell over a hidden ditch, the +quarry would be frightened away. He must see what was going on, see it +with his own eyes. + +Fairly holding his breath, he struggled forward. Now he had covered a +third of the distance, now half, now three-quarters and now-- + +His lips parted in an unuttered groan. He leaped out of the bush. +Something flashed in his hand. For a second that thing was pointed down +the road where the speedy car had suddenly resumed its journey. Then his +hand dropped to his side. + +"No," he said slowly, "it won't do. Too risky. Guess they haven't seen +me. If not, they will be back. And next time," he shook his fist at the +vanishing car, "next time my fair lad or lady, you won't escape me." + +Turning back, he again disappeared into the brush. + +In the meantime things were happening in the air. Coles Masters, who was +in charge of the secret tower room, had his hands full. He switched on +this loud-speaker and lowered that one to a whisper. He tuned in this +one and cut that one out. + +"Whew!" he exclaimed, mopping his brow, "what a night! Wish Curlie were +here." + +To start the night's entertainment a boy had broken in on the radio +concert. Then a crank had come shouting right into the middle of a +speech by a politician. A few moments later a message on 1200 had fairly +burst his ear-drums. The message had been short, composed of just three +words: + +"Dark, cloudy night." + +"Regular thunderbolt behind that!" he muttered as he measured the +location and found it to come from the city's great hotel. "Enough there +to send it round the world. Shouldn't be surprised to get the echo of it +in a few seconds myself. The nerve of the man!" + +In strange contrast to this was the whisper which followed within five +minutes. It was sent on 200. + +"Hello, Curlie. Did you get that? Terrible, wasn't it?" came the +whisper. "But, Curlie, I don't think you need to bother about him. He's +leaving in a day or two. He's going, far, far away. He's going north; +out of your territory entirely. I know you'd love to catch him, Curlie, +but it would be dangerous, awfully dangerous! So don't you try, for he +is going far, far away." + +Coles Masters' fingers had worked rapidly during this whispered message. +Not only had he measured the distance and taken the location, but he had +written down the message word for word. + +"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he muttered. "That was a girl, a young girl +and a pretty one too, or I miss my guess. Anyway she has an interesting +whisper. She's at that same hotel and seems to know Curlie. She must +have broken in on my 1200 friend. So he's going north? Can't go any too +soon for me. Mighty queer case. Have to turn it over to Curlie. It's all +Greek to me." + +"Hello, there! What--" + +He wheeled about to snap a button. A message was being shouted out on +600. + +"That's the chap Curlie's after. So he hasn't got him yet? Well, here's +hoping he hurries." His pencil began rapidly writing the message. + +Meanwhile Curlie in his woods retreat had moved silently over to the +other side of the driveway. + +"Probably will come back the other way," he concluded. + +He did not remain behind the fence this time but threw himself into the +shallow depths of a dry ravine. He remained keenly alert. His eyes were +constantly on the road, which lay like a brown ribbon a full mile +straight before him. + +He was thinking of his various cases. Equal in interest to the one which +he was now hunting down was that big hotel case. He was thinking of the +girl. Why had she whispered those messages to him? Was she merely a tool +of the man behind the powerful radio machine? Was she simply leading him +on? He could not feel that she was. Somehow her whisper had an accent of +genuine interest in it. + +"Wonder what she's like," he asked himself. Then, with a smile playing +about his lips, he tried to guess. + +"Small, very active, has dark brown hair and snappy black eyes." After a +moment's thought he chuckled: "Probably really a heavy blonde; something +like two hundred pounds. You can't tell anything by a voice. You--" + +Suddenly he braced himself up on his elbows. His keen ears had caught a +distant purring sound. Two yellow balls of fire were rapidly +approaching--the headlights of a fast-moving automobile. + +"He comes! Now for it!" He prepared to spring. + +In an amazingly short time the car was all but upon him. Leaping to his +feet, he let out a wild whoop and, brandishing his automatic +threateningly, stood squarely in the middle of the road. + +His heart beat wildly. There could be no mistake. He saw the wires and +rods swaying above the car. + +For a second the car slowed up, then, with a snort it leaped right at +him. Nimble as he was, he barely escaped being run down. + +As the car flashed past him, he wheeled about and almost instantly his +automatic barked three times. Simultaneous with the last shot there came +a louder explosion. + +"Tire! Got you," he muttered. + +Instantly the car swerved to the side of the road. A tire had gone flat. +The car had skidded. + +The rods which carried the aerials caught in a tree top. The car, jerked +back like a mad horse caught by a lariat, reared up on its hind wheels, +threatened to turn turtle, then crashed over on its side with its engine +still racing wildly. + +Sudden as had been the catastrophe, it had not been too quick for the +driver. Just as the car crashed over, Curlie caught sight of a figure in +long linen duster and with closely wrapped head, dashing up the bank, +over the fence and into the brush. + +"Go it," he exclaimed, making no attempt to catch the fugitive, "you +know the country better than I do. I'd never catch you in that labyrinth +of trees. Besides, I don't need to. Your equipment is pretty well +smashed up and you've left me enough evidence to make out a beautiful +case." + +Walking over to the machine, he reached over and shut off the engine. +After that, in a very leisurely manner he collected various odds and +ends from the radiophone equipment. Having stuffed these into his +pockets, he wrenched the back number plate from the machine and tucked +it under his arm. + +"Guess that's enough," he murmured. "Now I can take my own time in +springing the thing. He probably thinks I was a hold-up man, but even if +he guessed the truth he couldn't escape me and couldn't get his +equipment back in shape short of a week, so that's that." + +Turning, he started toward the nearest interurban line a good five miles +away. + +When he had walked a mile, he stopped suddenly in his track. + +"Say!" he exclaimed. "Was that the son or the daughter? All muffled up +that way I couldn't tell." + +"Ho, well," he resumed his march, "that'll come out in time. Only I hope +it wasn't the girl. I sort of liked her looks." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +CURLIE RECEIVES A SHOCK + + +Having boarded an interurban car, Curlie slept his way into the city. +Once there he hurried over to the secret tower room, where the news of +his night's adventure was received with great joy. + +"So you got him!" exclaimed Coles Masters. "Smashed him up right? Bully +for you. That's great!" He slapped Curlie on the back. + +Dropping into his chair, Curlie dictated a message by secret wire to +headquarters in New York. The message stated in modest, concise terms +that the nuisance on 600 in the secret tower region was at an end; that +the station had been effectively broken up and that the offender would +no doubt soon be in the hands of the law. + +A half hour later he received a highly commendatory message, +congratulating him on his achievement and bidding him keep up the good +work. + +After glancing over Coles' reports for the evening and making mental +notes from them, Curlie prepared to seek his bed and indulge in a good, +long sleep, the first in several days. + +"There isn't a bit of hurry in going after that rich young fellow or +girl, if it is a girl," he said to Coles. "That'll keep. We've got +plenty of proof." He jerked a thumb toward the corner where was a box +into which he had tossed the various small parts of a sending set and +the number plate of the car. "All we need to do now is to saunter out +there some fine morning and have a heart-to-heart talk with J. Anson +himself." + +Had Curlie but known it, there was to be a great deal more than that to +it. There was to be an adventure in it for him such as he had never +before experienced, an adventure which was destined to take him +thousands of miles from the secret tower room and which was to throw +him into such dangers as would cause the bravest to shrink back in +terror. + +Since he was blissfully ignorant of all this he was also blissfully +happy in the consciousness of having achieved success in the thing he +had undertaken. + +"This," he laughed as he said it, "is going to bring me face to face +with one of America's greatest millionaires. It's like going before a +king in some ways. In others I fancy it's more like meeting a lion in +the street. Anyway, I've always wanted to meet a king, a lion and a +millionaire and here's where I meet one of them. Ever meet one?" He +turned to Coles. + +"Meet which?" Coles smiled. "King, lion or millionaire?" + +"Millionaire." + +"No, can't say that I have, though I doubt if we'd either of us +recognize one if we should meet him on the street. Someone has said that +humanity is everywhere much the same and I fancy that's true even of +very rich folks. They may try to bluff you with their power but if they +find they can't do that, I guess they'll turn out to have the same +dreams, the same hopes and fears, the same joys and sorrows as the rest +of us." + +"Do you think so?" said Curlie thoughtfully. "I hope that's true. It +would be a good thing for the world if it were true and if all the +people in the world knew it. + +"Well, good night." He drew on his cap. "See you in about sixteen hours. +Guess it'll take me that long to catch up my sleep. After that I'm going +after that fellow who's breaking in on 1200, that fellow over at the +hotel with the whispering friend, or enemy, whichever she may turn out +to be." + +Had he but known it, it was to be many days before he was to go after +that offender on the 1200 meter wave lengths and then it was to be in +ways of which he had not yet dreamed. And so he slept. + +When he awoke after fourteen hours of refreshing sleep, it was to hear +the newsies crying their evening papers. For some time he lay there +listening to their shrill shouts and attempting to catch what they were +saying. + +"Ex-tree! All about--" He could get that far, probably because he had +heard it so often before, but no further could he go. The remainder was +a jumble of meaningless sounds. + +Suddenly, as he listened, a shrill urchin shouted the words out directly +beneath his very window: + +"Wul--ex-tree! All about the mur-der-ed millionaire's son!" + +"Here! Here!" exclaimed Curlie, thrusting his head out of the window. +"What millionaire's son? Give me one of those papers." He tossed the boy +a nickel and received a tightly wrapped paper. Sent through the window +as if shot from a catapult, it landed with a bump on the floor. + +His hand trembled so he could scarcely unroll the paper. His head +whirled. + +"Murdered?" he said to himself. "Millionaire's son murdered? Can it be +Vincent Ardmore? Did a bullet from my automatic, glancing from the +wheel, inflict a mortal wound?" + +He saw himself behind prison bars in murderer's row. + +Cold perspiration stood out on his brow as he read in staring headlines: + + "J. ANSON ARDMORE'S SON BELIEVED MURDERED." + +"Believed?" He caught at that single word as a camel in a desert snaps +at a straw. So they were not sure. + +Hastily he read the column through, then dropped limply into a chair. + +"Oh! What a shock!" he breathed. + +He was vastly relieved. The article stated that the car belonging to the +millionaire's son had been found by a laborer employed on the estate as +he came to his work very early in the morning. The car, which was badly +smashed up, bore the mark of a bullet in a rear tire and one in the +lower part of the body. It was believed that the young man, being +pursued by bandits and having attempted to escape, had had his car +riddled by bullets and had been thrown into the ditch. + +"There are grave reasons for supposing," the article went on to state, +"since no trace of the young man has yet been found, that he has been +either kidnapped for ransom or, having been killed by a stray bullet, +has been buried somewhere in the forest preserve. + +"Bands of armed men are searching the woods and every available police +officer and detective has been put on the case. A reward of $5,000 has +been offered by the father for any information which may lead to the +discovery of the whereabouts of his son." + +"Whew!" exclaimed Curlie, mopping his brow. "What a rumpus!" + +Suddenly he sat up straight. "Doesn't say one word about that wireless +apparatus in the car. How about that?" + +He sat with wrinkled brow for a moment. + +"Ah!" he slapped his knee, "I have it! The laborer of course came +directly to his master. The shrewd old millionaire, guessing that his +son had been breaking radio laws, had all of that equipment removed +before the public was let in on the deal. He bribed the laborer to +secrecy on that point and there you are." + +Again his brow wrinkled. "Five thousand dollars!" he whispered. "That's +a lot of money. I could supply some valuable information which might +entitle me to the five thousand. Question is, do I want to risk it? The +thing that's happened is about this, far as I can figure it out: Our +young amateur radio friend, when his auto turned turtle, hiked off into +the woods. For a time he stayed there. Then, when nothing happened for +some time, he came sneaking back. When he found I'd taken his number +plate and some parts of his radio equipment, he guessed right away that +I was connected with the radio secret service. He's hiding right now, +unless I miss my guess, with some of his rich young friends. + +"I might tell all that and I might get the reward, but supposing +something really had happened? Oh, boy, what a mess! + +"And yet," he mused, after a moment, "I've done nothing to be ashamed +of. I'm an officer of the law. I did what I did because a fellow was +resisting arrest. Ho, well, I'll just let things stand and simmer. +Something may come to the top yet." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +CURLIE MEETS A MILLIONAIRE + + +It was a tense situation for Curlie. He spent an uneasy night and that +in spite of the fact that the air was particularly free from trouble. + +"Hang it all," he exclaimed once as, dashing the receiver from his head, +he sprang from his chair to pace the floor of the secret tower room, +"I'd welcome something in the line of trouble. This eternal +thinking--thinking--thinking, drives me wild. What to do, that's the +question. Suppose I'd ought to go out and tell Ardmore what I know. If a +millionaire father's like any other father, I guess he's pretty well +wrought up by now. But if I go, and if I tell him the whole truth, I'm +as sure as I am of anything that it will get me into a mess and that's +the sort of thing I don't like." + +Glancing down, his eye was caught by Coles' report of the night before. +Dropping once more into his chair, he began going through the messages +written there. When he came to the one sent out by the boy whose car he +had wrecked, he pondered over it for a long time. + +"'Island, airplane, map, much gold; airplane, map, island, gold,'" he +repeated. "What does one make out of that? It might be that this boy has +been planning a secret voyage with some other chap. Certainly sounds +like it. Other messages were the same kind. By Jove! Perhaps he's +skipped out and gone on that trip and is not hiding out at all! Let's +see." + +Taking down a file he drew forth a bunch of message records clipped +together. They were those sent by the moving operator on 600, the +millionaire's son. + +A long time he studied over these. + +"Seems to sort of prove my theory," he muttered once. "Can't be sure +though." + +Then, suddenly he sat up straight. "That's the idea." He slapped his +knee. "The very thing! Why didn't I think of that before? If he +doesn't shew up by morning I'll do it. I'll just take these records over +to Ardmore and suggest to him that they may shed some light on the +subject. Don't need to tell him I was in on the wrecking of the car at +all. That wouldn't help any. These records might. And if I can help to +find him and bring him back, then, oh, boy! Oh you baby fortune! Five +thousand big, red, round dollars!" + +He sat back trying to measure the meaning of the possession of five +thousand dollars which did not have to be spent for bed, board and +clothing. At last he gave it up in despair. + +The morning papers assured the interested city that the son of their +money king was still missing. To make sure that this report was correct, +Curlie called up the mansion and inquired about it. When he learned that +it was indeed true, he requested the servant who answered the telephone +to inform the millionaire that a representative of the Secret Service of +the Air would arrive at his residence with copies of certain radiophone +messages sent out by his son previous to his mysterious disappearance, +which might shed some light on the subject. + +Shortly after that he leaped into the driver's seat on the Humming Bird +and motored away to the west. + +Arrived at the Forest Preserve, he backed the car into the deserted +roadway in the forest at the very spot where he and Joe had concealed +themselves the night of the race. + +"Have to leave you here, old thing," he whispered. "If a fellow were to +pull up that driveway in such a rakish craft as you are, they might +think him crazy and throw him out. + +"Well here goes," he whispered to himself, as, having rounded the last +clump of decorative shrubbery, he came in sight of the red stone +mansion. + +"Whew! What a stunner!" whispered Curlie to himself. + +The sun was tipping the parapets of that mansion with gold; the dew +sparkled on the perfectly kept green. It was indeed a beautiful +picture. + +Tiptoeing up the steps, he was about to lift the heavy bronze knocker +when a porter opened the door and motioned him to enter. + +"Are you the man?" he asked in a low tone. + +"I'm the boy who wired about the messages." + +"Step right this way. He's waiting." + +Curlie's heart beat fast. Was he to be ushered at once into the august +presence of the magnate? He had pictured to himself hours of waiting, +interviews by private secretaries and all that. + +And yet here he was. In a large room furnished in rich mahogany, +seemingly the rich man's home office, he was being greeted by a stout, +broad-shouldered, brisk and healthy-looking man who was assuring him +that he was speaking to J. Anson Ardmore himself and inviting him to sit +down. + +With his head in a whirl, he managed to get himself into a chair. And +all this while he was telling himself things; things like this: +"Curlie, old boy, this is going to be strenuous. This man is powerful, +magnetic, almost hypnotizing. He will find out as much as he can from +you. He will tell as little as is necessary to attain his end. To him +all life is a game, a game in which he conceals much and discovers all +that lies in his opponent's hand. He probably knows you have the goods +on his son. Perhaps he is merely playing a game about this vanishing +son. He may know where he is all the time. If so, he'll want to know +what you know, and what you are going to do. You must be wise--wise as a +serpent." + +"Well?" the magnate spoke in a brisk way. "My butler tells me you have +some messages." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Sent by my missing son?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And may I ask," the magnate's face was a mask, not a muscle moved, "how +you happened to be in possession of these messages?" + +Curlie could hear his own heart beat, but he held his ground. "Since I +am attached to the government radiophone staff, it is my duty to catch +and record all unfair and illegally sent messages, to record them as +evidence and for future reference." + +Curlie fancied he saw the man start. The words that followed were spoken +still in a cold, collected tone. + +"These messages you say were unfair?" + +"Unfair and illegally sent." + +"How illegal?" + +"They were sent with exceedingly high power and on 600 meter wave +lengths. Such high power is unlawful for all amateurs and the use of 600 +is granted to ships and ship stations alone. + +"Ah!" + +For a second the man appeared to reflect. Then suddenly: + +"We are wasting time. My son has mysteriously disappeared. I have reason +to fear foul play. Let me assure you that I know nothing about his +whereabouts and, previous to this moment, that I have known nothing +regarding these illegally sent messages." + +"But--" began Curlie. + +"You doubt my word," his voice grew stern and hard as he read the +incredulity in Curlie's eyes. "Young man," he fairly thundered, "fix +this in your mind: No man ever has risen or ever will rise to my present +position through treachery or deceit. When I say a thing is so, by +thunder it _is_ so!" + +He struck his desk a terrific blow. + +"But a--" + +Curlie caught himself just in time. He had been about to reveal the fact +that he was aware of the presence of the wireless set in the auto the +night the millionaire's son disappeared. + +"I can't see just how your messages could aid us in finding my son." The +magnate spoke more calmly. "However, all things are possible. May I see +the copies?" + +"Of course," said Curlie, hesitatingly, "this is a private matter. Few +persons know of our service. It is the desire of the government that +they should not know. These are not for publication. Do you understand +that?" + +"You have my word." + +Curlie passed the sheath of papers over the desk. + +Slowly, one by one, the great man read them. His movement was not +hurried. He digested every word. Like many another great man he had +formed the habit of gathering, as far as possible, the full meaning of +any set of facts by his own careful research, before allowing his +opinion to be influenced by others. + +He had gone half through the pack when a door over at the right opened +and a girl, dressed in some filmy stuff which brought out the smoothness +of her neck and arms and the beauty of her complexion, entered the room. + +Curlie caught his breath. It was the girl he had seen on the horse that +morning, the magnate's daughter. + +She had advanced halfway to her father's desk before she became aware of +Curlie's presence. Then she started back with a stammered: "I--I beg +your pardon." + +"It's all right." The first smile Curlie had seen on the great man's +face now curved about his mouth. "You may remain. This is no secret +chamber." + +"Fa--father," she faltered, gripping at her throat, "does he know--know +anything--about--about Vincent?" + +"I can't tell yet. I am going over the messages. Please be seated." + +The girl sank into a deep leather-cushioned chair. Without looking at +her Curlie was aware of the fact that she was studying him, perhaps +trying to make up her mind where she had seen him before. This made him +exceedingly uncomfortable. He was greatly relieved when at last the +magnate spoke. + +"Gladys," he addressed the girl, "did you say you found some sort of map +in Vincent's room?" + +"Oh, yes," she sprang to her feet. "A photograph of a very strange +looking map and also one of some queer foreign writing." + +"Will you run and get those photographs?" + +"Yes, father." + +"It's strange," the older man mused after she had gone. "I don't +understand it at all. These messages, they are--" + +"If you please--" Curlie broke in. + +"Wait!" commanded the other, holding up his hand for silence. "Let us +have no opinions before all of the evidence is in. That map may aid us +in forming correct conclusions." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A MYSTERIOUS MAP + + +It was indeed a curious map which had been reproduced on the large +photographic print which Gladys Ardmore placed on the desk before her +father. + +Motioning Curlie to come forward and examine it with them, the magnate +rose from his chair to bend over the map. As Curlie stood there looking +down at it, the girl in her eagerness bent down so close to him that he +felt her warm breath on his cheek. + +Nothing, however, could have drawn his gaze from that map. Wrinkled, +torn in places, patched, browned with age, smirched by many finger +marks, all of which were faithfully reproduced by the freshly printed +photograph, it still gave promise of revealing many a mystery if one +could but read it correctly. + +It showed both land and water. Here on the land was a picture of a +castle and there on the water a ship. The shore of the land was not +drawn as are maps with which we are in these days familiar, but was cut +up in curious geometric forms which surely could not faithfully +represent the true lines of the shore. Towns were shown, but only on the +shoreline, their names printed in by hand in such small letters as would +require a magnifying glass to read them. Crossing and recrossing the +water in every conceivable direction were innumerable straight lines. +About the edge of the map were eight faces of children. Their cheeks +puffed out as if blowing, they appeared to represent the wind that blew +from certain quarters. + +All the writing was in some foreign language. In the lower left-hand +corner was what appeared to be the name of the maker but this was so +blotted out as to be unreadable. + +"Huh!" The magnate straightened up. "That's a strange map and appears to +be very ancient, but I can hardly see how it is going to help us with +our present problem." + +"There is still the writing," suggested Gladys, turning over the other +photograph. + +"That," said Mr. Ardmore, after a moment's study of it, "is written in +some strange tongue and is, I take it, unintelligible to us all." + +"It's a photograph of the back of the map," suggested Curlie, pointing +out certain spots where the wrinkles and tears were the same. + +"My French teacher will be here at ten o'clock. He knows several +languages. Perhaps he could help us," suggested Gladys. + +"We will leave that to him," said her father. "Now about these +messages," he went on, turning to Curlie. "What is your theory?" + +Stammeringly Curlie proceeded to explain the idea which had come to him, +the notion that Vincent Ardmore and some pal of his had been planning a +secret trip of some sort. + +"That is entirely possible," said Ardmore. "Vincent is daring, even rash +at times. If some wild fancy leaped into his head, he would attempt +anything. Now that you speak of it, I do think there might be something +in your theory. Perhaps after all we may get some light from that map +and the writing on the back of it. I shall await the coming of the +professor with much anxiety." + +"Father," exclaimed Gladys, "I have seen some such maps as this one at +some other place." + +"Where?" + +"It was over at that big library, the one you are a director of." + +"The Newtonian?" + +"Yes. I was over there once and they showed me a great number of ancient +maps. Oh, a very great number, and such strange affairs as they were! +There were some similar to this one. I know there were!" + +"Young man," said the magnate, turning to Curlie, "may I command your +services on this matter for the day?" + +Curlie bowed. + +"Good! You will not be unrewarded. I am of the opinion that something +may be learned by a study of the maps my daughter speaks of. +Unfortunately I am engaged; I cannot go to the library. Would it be +asking too much were I to request that you accompany her?" + +Curlie assured him it would not. In his heart of hearts he assured +himself that it would be a great privilege. + +"Very well then, Gladys," the magnate bowed to his daughter, "I suggest +that you plan on being back here at eleven. By that time your French +teacher may have something to tell us." + +Bowing to them both, he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. + +As the neat little town car, which was apparently Gladys Ardmore's +exclusive property, hurried them away toward the north side library, +Curlie had time to think and to steal a look now and then at his fair +hostess. + +Matters had been going rather rapidly of late. He found it difficult to +keep up with the march of events. What should be his next move? He was +torn between two conflicting interests: his loyalty to the radio secret +service bureau and his desire to be of service to this girl and her +father. The girl, as he stole a glance at her, appeared disturbed and +troubled. There was a tenseness about the lines of her mouth, a droop to +her eyelids. "For all the world as if she were in some way to blame for +what has happened," he told himself. + +Instantly the question popped into his mind: "Does she know more than +she cares to tell?" He thought of the wireless equipment which had been +removed from the wrecked car before the reporters had arrived. The +laborer would hardly do that without orders from someone. Who had that +someone been? The millionaire had denied all knowledge of the radiophone +messages. Curlie believed that he had told the truth. Here was an added +mystery. He was revolving this in his mind when the girl spoke: + +"It must be very interesting listening in." + +"Listening in?" Curlie feigned ignorance of her meaning. + +"Yes, isn't that what you do? Listen in on radio all the time?" + +Curlie started. How did she know? + +"Why, yes, since you've asked, that is my work." + +"Where--where--" she hesitated, "is your station?" + +"That," smiled Curlie, "is a state secret; very few know where it is." + +"Oh!" she breathed. "A mystery?" + +Curlie nodded. + +"Something like that." + +"I love mysteries," she whispered. "I love to unravel them. Some day I +shall surprise you. I shall come walking into that secret room of +yours." There was a look on her face that he had not seen there before. +It was disturbing. It spoke of a quality which, he concluded, she had +inherited from her father, the quality of firmness and determination, +which had made him great. + +"I--I'd rather you wouldn't try," he almost stammered. + +"Oh! here we are," she exclaimed, "at the library." + +Leaping out of the car she led the way up the broad steps of an +imposing gray stone structure. + +"Down this way," she whispered, as if awed by the vast fund of knowledge +stowed away between those walls. Without further words they made their +way within. + +Ten minutes later they were together bending over a great pile of +ancient maps. Done on sheepskin and vellum, gray and brown with age, yet +with colors as bright as on the day they were drawn, these maps spoke of +an age that was gone and of a map-making art that is lost forever. + +"Look at this one!" exclaimed the girl. "The date's on it--1450. Made +before the days of Columbus. And look! It is like the one Vincent had +the photograph of; the most like of any." + +"Yes, but not the same," said Curlie. "See, those strangely shaped +islands in the lower, right-hand corner are not on it; neither are the +cherubs blowing to imitate the wind." + +"That's true," said the girl in a disappointed tone, "I had hoped it +might be the same map. It might have told us something." + +Suddenly Curlie was struck with an idea. Leaving the girl's side, he +approached the librarian. + +"Have any of these maps been photographed recently?" he asked in a low +tone. + +"Not for several years," she answered. "But there are reproductions of +these and others. They're in a bound volume in the next room. There the +maps are reproduced on a large scale and a description of each is given. +The lady in charge will show you." + +Curlie tiptoed into that room. He was soon turning the pages of a large +book which resembled an atlas. + +After studying each successive page for some time, he came to a halt +with a suppressed exclamation. + +There, staring up at him, was a reproduction of the very map which had +been photographed for Vincent Ardmore and, if further proof were +lacking, there on the opposite page was a reproduction of the writing +on the back of it, with a translation in fine print below. + +Hurriedly he read this translation through. Twice he paused in utter +astonishment. Three times he wrote down a brief note on a scrap of +paper. When he had finished, he looked at the lower left-hand corner of +the map, then copied some figures reproduced there. + +Closing the book quickly, as if afraid the girl would find him looking +at it, he paused for a second to banish all sign of excitement from his +face, then walked leisurely from the room. + +"Find anything?" he asked in as quiet a tone as he could command. + +"No," there was a tired and worried look in her eyes. "I'm afraid the +map is not here." + +"By the way," he said in a casual way, "does your brother happen to have +a pal living at Landensport on the coast?" + +"Why, yes," she said quickly, "that's Alfred Brightwood. They were chums +in Brimward Academy." + +"I thought that might be so." + +"And you think--think--" she faltered. + +"What we think," he smiled a disarming smile, "doesn't count for much. +It's facts which really matter. Excuse me; I'll be back in a moment," he +said hurriedly. "Want to telephone." + +In the booth of the library he conversed long and earnestly with his +chief. + +"Why, yes," came over the phone at last, "I don't see but that you had +better finish the thing up. We can't let rich young offenders off +easily. It would destroy the service entirely. Go ahead. Coles Masters +can handle the station while you are away." + +The interview ended, he got Joe Marion on the wire. + +"Joe," he said hurriedly, "throw some of my things into a bag and some +of your own with them. Be down at the Lake Shore station at one-fifteen +prepared for a short trip. Where to? Oh, New York and then some. It's +important and interesting. Be there! Good. Good-bye till then." He +snapped down the receiver and hurriedly left the booth. + +"Shall we go back?" he asked the girl. + +"I suppose we might as well," she said dejectedly. Then brightening +suddenly, "Yes, let's hurry back. Perhaps the professor has found out +something from that queer old writing." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE FIRST LAP OF A LONG JOURNEY + + +On the way back to the Ardmore home both the girl and her escort were +silent for some time. Then, turning to her, Curlie asked: + +"Has this friend of your brother's--Brightwood, did you say his name +was?--has he a seaplane?" + +"Is that an airplane which flies up from the ocean and lights upon it +when one wishes it to?" + +"Yes." + +"He has one of those. Yes, I'm sure of it. He wanted to take me for a +ride out over the sea last summer." + +"And is he what you would call a daring chap, ready to attempt +anything?" + +"Why, yes, he is; but--but how do you know so many things?" + +"It is my duty to know." + +Again he lapsed into silence. On arriving at the estate they found +Gladys' father in a strange state of agitation. + +"Just received a telegram from an old and trusted friend who is on the +coast of Maine. He says Vincent has been seen there within the last +twenty-four hours. What that can mean I haven't the faintest notion. I +should go there at once but business makes it entirely impossible." + +"Under one condition," said Curlie soberly, "I will go East and attempt +to bring your son home. Indeed, I shall go anyway; have already arranged +transportation, in fact, and leave in two hours; but it would please me +if I might go with your approval." + +"You have arranged to go?" The older man's face expressed his +astonishment. "For what purpose?" + +"On a commission for the government." + +"And you wish my permission for what?" + +"To bring your son back with a warrant, under arrest." + +The older man looked at Curlie for a moment as if to discover whether or +not he was joking. + +"Young man," he said slowly, "do you know who I am?" + +"You are J. Anson Ardmore, one of the richest men of the Middle West." + +"And do you know that I could crush you with my influence?" + +"No, sir, I do not." Curlie drew himself up to his full height. "Those +days are gone forever. I am part of the United States government, the +government which has made it possible for you to gain your wealth. Her +laws must be obeyed. You could not crush me and, what is still more +important, you have no notion of doing so." + +"What?" The magnate's face became a study, then it broke into a smile. +"I like your spirit," he said seizing Curlie's hand in a viselike grip. +"You have the power of the law behind you; you need no consent of mine. +But so be it; if my son has broken the law, he shall suffer the +penalty." + +"There is one other matter," said Curlie soberly. "At the present moment +it is merely a theory. I am unable to offer any worth-while proof for +it, but it is my belief that your son and his chum, Alfred Brightwood, +are considering a very perilous seaplane journey. Indeed, they may even +at this moment be on their way. If that is true they should be followed +at once in some swift traveling vessel, for they are almost certain to +meet with disaster." + +"That Brightwood boy will be the death of us all yet," exploded the +father. "For sheer foolhardy daring I have never known his equal. Time +and again I have attempted to persuade Vincent to give up associating +with him, but it has been of no avail. Alfred appears to hold some +strange hypnotic power over him." + +For a moment he stood there in silence. When he spoke he was again the +sober, thoughtful business man. + +"If what you say is true, and you find that they have already departed +on this supposed journey, my private yacht is at your disposal. It lies +in the mouth of the river at Landensport. The captain and engineer are +on board. You will need no further crew. She is the fastest private +engine-driven yacht afloat. If necessity demands, do not hesitate +risking her destruction, but you will not, of course, endanger your own +life." + +"All right; then I guess everything is settled. You will wire +instructions to the captain of the yacht. I must hurry to my train." +Curlie hastened from the room. + +Joe was awaiting Curlie at the depot. Filled with an eager desire to +know what was to be the nature of this new adventure, he could wait +scarcely long enough to buy tickets, reserve sleeper berths, and to +board the train before demanding full details. + +The train was a trifle slow in pulling out. As he outlined the situation +to Joe, Curlie kept an eye out of the window. Once he caught sight of a +slight girlish figure which seemed familiar. He could not be sure, so +heavily veiled was her face. + +He had quite forgotten the incident when, a few hours later, he entered +the diner for his evening lunch. What then was his surprise, on +entering, to see Gladys Ardmore calmly seated at a table and nibbling at +a bun. + +She motioned him to a seat opposite her. + +"You didn't expect to have me for a fellow-passenger, did you?" she +smiled. + +Curlie shook his head. + +"Well, I didn't expect to go until the last moment. Then the professor +came with the translation of the writing on the map all written out. +Father thought you should have it, so he sent me with it. I arrived just +in time and decided all at once that I ought to--Oh, that I wanted--that +I _must_ go with you." There was a pathetic catch in her voice that went +straight to Curlie's heart. + +"After all," he told himself, "he's her brother and that means a lot." + +When he looked at her the next moment he discovered there the strangely +determined look which was so like her father's, and which he had seen +once before on her face. + +"Here is the translation," she said simply as she passed over a roll of +paper. "Order your dinner; we will have plenty of time to look over the +papers later." + +"She's a most determined and composed little piece of humanity," was +Curlie's mental comment. "I don't like her following me, but since she's +here I suppose I better make the best of it!" + +Had he known how far she would follow him and what adventures she was +destined to share with him, he might have been tempted to wire her +father to call her back. Since he did not know, he ordered meat-pie, +French fried potatoes, English tea biscuits, cocoa and apple pie, then +settled himself down to talk of trivial matters until the meal was over. + +When at last he saw the waiter remove the girl's finger bowl, Curlie put +out his hand for the paper. The hand trembled a trifle. Truth was, he +was more eager than he was willing to admit to read the French +teacher's translation of the writing on the back of the map. + +Now as he held it in his hand one question came to the forefront in his +mind: Was this photograph a reproduction of the map that had looked so +much like it, the one in the great volume at the library? The +translation would dear up that point. + +But then it might not be, he reasoned. The book said that the original +of this map had belonged to an English lord something like a hundred +years ago; that it had disappeared and nothing had been heard of it +since. + +"The professor said," smiled the girl, a trifle anxiously, "that the +writing was in very, very old Spanish and for that reason he might not +have understood every word of it correctly but that taking it all in all +he thought he had made the meaning clear." + +"We'll have a look," said Curlie, unfolding the paper. + +"He said it was the photograph of a very unusual manuscript, rare and +valuable." There was something about the way the girl said this which +led Curlie to guess that she might know who was in possession of the +original. He was, however, too much excited over the first lines of the +translation to ask her any questions. + +"The Island of Lagos." He read the title to himself. Beneath this in +brackets were the words: + +"Being the account of how the good ship Torence was cast ashore on an +unknown island in the midst of the great sea; an island whereon there +are many barbarians having much gold." + +Curlie caught his breath. Save for one word the translation was the same +as that he had read in the book. That word was of no consequence. + +"It's the same map!" he told himself. "The very same!" + +The girl, leaning over the table, watched him eagerly. She was both +excited and elated over the find. + +"Isn't it wonderful?" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. "I think it's +great! And to think that my brother and his chum were the ones who +found it!" + +"Haven't read it all," Curlie mumbled. + +"Then read on. Read it all. Please do." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +"MANY BARBARIANS AND MUCH GOLD" + + +Curlie, obeying her instructions, read on and with every line his +conviction grew stronger that the conclusions he had come to were well +formed. + +This is what he read: + +"Having spent Good Friday with his family, our captain, deeming further +delay but loss of time, determined to cast anchor and sail for the coast +of Ireland. Here he hoped to do a brisk business at barter with the +peasants and fisher-folk who inhabit the shores. + +"But Providence had determined otherwise. Hardly had we been from shore +a half day's journey, when, without warning, from out the night there +rose a great tumult. This tumult, coming as it did from the shore, +grasped us in its mighty arms and hurled us league by league in +directions that we would not go. And being exceedingly tossed with the +tempest we lightened the ship. On the fourth day we, with our own hand, +cast out the tackle of the ship. And when not sun nor moon nor stars had +appeared for many days, we counted ourselves for lost; for, having been +carried straight away these many days, we expected nothing but that we +would come soon to that dark and dreadful place which is the end of all +land and all seas." + +"Isn't it wonderful?" whispered the girl. + +Curlie was too much absorbed to answer her. + +"When we had given up all hope," he read on, "Markus Laplone, a very old +seaman, said we were nearing some land. + +"We took soundings and found it forty fathoms. Then again it was thirty. +Then with hopeful hearts we looked for that land. But when at last it +broke through the fog it was no land that any of the men had seen, no, +not the oldest seaman. + +"But fearing to be cast upon rocks, we kept a good watch that we might +find some harbor. At last we were rewarded, for to the right of us there +was a river flowing into the sea. + +"The storm having somewhat abated, we took oars, such as had not been +broken by the storm, and some with two men to the oar and some with but +one, we made shift to enter this river; having accomplished which, we +dropped anchor and gave thanks to God for the preservation of our lives. + +"Now, on coming on shore we found this to be indeed a strange land. Not +alone were the trees and all vegetation of a sort unknown to us, but the +barbarians who came about us were of a complexion such as not one man of +us had ever before beheld. + +"And, what was more astounding, as we made a fire to cook us food, there +passed by us bearing on their backs strangely woven baskets, a caravan +of these half-naked barbarians. And, when we motioned to show them we +would see within his basket, one of these lowered his basket. + +"What we saw astounded us much, for it was all filled with finely-beaten +gold. The fellow had as much of it as a stout sailor would be able to +carry. And there were many such baskets. + +"When I made as though I would take the gold, he became very angry, and +would have struck me down with an ugly spear which he bore. + +"But when I laughed, making as though it were a joke, he gave me a small +piece, the which is at this time in my possession, as proof that what I +have written here is truth and no lie. + +"Now this island I have shown on the map, the nether side upon which I +am writing, as a star with six points to it; though the shore marking +nor the extent of the island is as yet unknown to any but those +barbarians who live upon it." + +There ended the main portion of the story, but in a bracket at the +bottom was written: + +"In some other place will be found the account of our miraculous return +from this strange and mysterious island of many barbarians and much +gold." + +As Curlie finished, he glanced up with a sigh. + +The girl was staring at him so intently that he could not but think she +was attempting to read his thoughts. + +"Isn't it wonderful?" she breathed at last. + +"Yes," said Curlie quickly, "you expressed it even better before. It's +great!" + +He looked away. His head was in a whirl It was the long-lost map; he was +sure of that now. He remembered the figures he had copied from that +other reproduction. They were blurred and unreadable on this one. Should +he tell her? + +His lips opened but no sound came out. No, he would not tell her, not at +this time. There might be some other way. + +"Your brother and his chum," he said evenly, "have gone in search of +that island of gold." + +She stared at him in silence. + +"If they haven't gone already, they may be gone before we reach the +coast," he continued. "They will probably go in Alfred Brightwood's +seaplane." + +"Yes, yes," she broke her spell of silence. "That is the way they would +go. It's--it's a wonderful plane! You--you don't think anything could +happen to them, do you?" + +"Supposing they do not find the island?" + +"But they will." + +"It is to be hoped that they will find an island--some island." + +"It's a wonderful plane. It would cross the Atlantic!" She clasped and +unclasped her hands. + +"But supposing," he rose from his chair in his excitement, "supposing +they don't find the island exactly where they expect to find it? +Supposing, in their eagerness to find that gold, they circle and circle +and circle in search of the island until there is no longer any gas in +the tank to bring them home." + +"Oh, you don't think that!" She sprang to her feet and, gripping his +arm to steady herself, looked up into his eyes. There was a +heartbreaking appeal in those blue eyes of hers. + +"I think," said Curlie steadily, "that my pal, Joe Marion, and I, if we +find them gone when we get there, will take your father's speedy yacht +and go for a little pleasure trip in the general direction they have +taken. Then if they chance to get into trouble, we can give them a lift. +Besides," there came a twinkle in his eye, which was wholly lost on the +girl, "they might need the yacht to carry home the gold." + +"Oh, will you?" she exclaimed, gripping his arm until it hurt. "That +will be grand of you. For you know," she faltered, "I--I feel a little +bit responsible for what they have done and if anything should happen I +could never forgive myself. I--I'll tell you about it some time." + +For a moment they stood there in silence, she steadying herself from the +rock of the train by clinging to his arm. + +"I think," she said soberly, "if you go in father's yacht, that I shall +go along with you." + +"And I think," said Curlie in a decided tone, "that you won't." + +She said not another word but had he taken a look at her face just then +he would have found there the expression that he had seen there before, +the expression which she had inherited from her father, the self-made +millionaire. + +That night in his berth, as the train rushed along on its eastward +journey, Curlie narrated to Joe Marion all the events which had led up +to the present moment, and as much of his conclusions as he had told to +Gladys Ardmore. + +"So you see, Joe, old boy," he concluded, "if those young millionaires +are away before we arrive we're destined to take a little trip which may +have an adventure or two in it; that is, at least I will." + +"Count me in," said Joe soberly. "I go anywhere you do." + +"Good!" exclaimed Curlie, gripping his hand. "And in the end," he +concluded, "I think we shall have told the world in a rather effective +way that the air must be free for the important messages; that Uncle Sam +has the right of way in the air as well as on land or sea and that he +has ways of defending those rights." + +At that they turned over, to lie there listening to the click-click of +wheels over rails until sleep claimed them. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +OUT TO SEA IN A COCKLESHELL + + +Darkness was falling when at last Curlie and Joe reached the station at +Landensport. In spite of the fact that they had had no supper and were +weary from travel, Curlie insisted on going at once to the hangar where +the _Stormy Petrel_, Alfred Brightwood's seaplane, was kept. + +"Yes," said the keeper of the hangar, "they hopped off six hours ago. +Seemed to be preparing for somethin' of a journey; they filled the tanks +with gas and loaded her cabin full of things to eat. Some sort of a +picnic, I reckon. Strange part of it was," he said reflectively, "I +watched 'em as they went and sure's I'm standin' here they shot out to +sea, straight as an arrow, and far as you could see 'em they was going +right on. Couldn't be tryin' to cross the Atlantic, but you can never +tell what'll get into that Brightwood boy's head. He's darin', he is. +Jest some picnic, though, I reckon." + +"Some picnic all right!" said Curlie emphatically. "Some picnic for all +of us!" + +"Eh? What?" the keeper turned on him quickly. + +Curlie did not answer. + +"Vincent Ardmore went with him, I suppose," Curlie said after a moment's +silence. + +"Of course. Just them two." + +"Was the plane equipped with wireless?" + +"Yes. They spent two days tending to that; seemed to be mighty +particular about it." + +"Yes, of course they would." + +"Eh? What?" the man turned sharply about. + +Curlie was silent again. + +"It's funny about them wireless rigs for a plane," said the keeper at +last. "You git your ground by hanging a wire seventy-five er a hundred +feet down from the plane, then you get ground just the same as if the +wire was dragging through the sea, don't matter whether you're up a +hundred miles or five thousand. Strange stuff, this radio." + +"Yes," said Curlie, "it is. By the way," he exclaimed suddenly, "do you +know about this new Packard-Prentiss equipment?" + +"Yes, sir; was tryin' one out only yesterday. Fine thing." + +"Reliable?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Know where I can get one?" + +"Over at Dorrotey's sea-goods store on the dock. He's got one er two for +sale." + +"Thanks." He and Joe started away. + +"Next place is Dock No. 3. The _Kittlewake_, the Ardmore yacht, is tied +up over there. Unless I miss my guess we'll be off to sea in less than +two hours," said Curlie to Joe. "Speed's the word now. Those two young +dreamers have gotten away by plane. We've got to stand by in the +_Kittlewake_ or they'll never be seen again. I don't propose to allow +the sea to rob me of my first important offender against the laws of the +air." + +"By the way," said Joe, "where is Gladys Ardmore? I haven't seen her +since we left New York." + +"I don't know and I'm glad I don't," said Curlie. "She let fall a remark +in the dining car that I didn't like. She said she thought she'd go +along with us on this trip. A five hundred mile trip straight out to sea +in a fifty-foot pleasure yacht with a fifteen-foot beam, is no sort of +trip for a girl. I was afraid she'd try to insist. That would have +caused a scene, for unless I miss my guess she's the determined sort +like her father." + +"It's queer she gave us up so quickly." + +"Yes, but I'm glad she did." + +Suddenly Curlie started. As they rounded a corner he caught sight of a +trim, slender figure. This girl had been standing in the light of a shop +window. Now she dodged inside. + +"Huh!" he grunted. "Thought that looked like her, but of course it +couldn't be. Some ship captain's daughter probably." + +They arrived on board the _Kittlewake_ just as the captain, a red-faced +old British salt, and the engineer, a silent man who was fully as slim +and wiry of build as Curlie himself, were finishing lunch. + +"Pardon me," said Curlie, "but did you get Mr. Ardmore's wire?" + +"You're this wireless man, Curlie Carson?" asked the captain. + +"Yes." + +"'Is message is 'ere; came this morning." + +"Then you're ready to put off at once." + +"At once!" The captain stared his amazement. "'Ere it is night. At once, +'e says!" + +"It's very necessary that we go at once," said Curlie firmly, "and I +believe you have your orders." + +"To be hat your service in hevery particular." + +"All right then, we must be on our way in an hour." + +"Wot course?" The skipper rose to his feet. + +"This is the point we must reach with all speed," said Curlie, drawing +the photograph of the mysterious old map from his pocket and pointing +to the star near the center. "Compare that with your own chart, locate +it as well as you can and then mark out your own course." + +The skipper stared at him as though he thought Curlie crazy. + +"That! Why that--" + +Turning quickly, he disappeared up the hatch, to return presently with a +chart. This he placed upon the table, beside the photograph. + +After five minutes of close study he turned an astonished face upon the +boy. + +"That, as I 'ave thought, is five 'undred miles hout to sea. Five +'undred miles in a cockleshell. Man, you're daft." + +"All right," said Curlie; "the trip's got to be made. I thought you +might be afraid to undertake it; that's why I wanted to know at once. +I'll go out and hunt another skipper. There's surely plenty of them idle +these dull times." + +"Hafraid, did 'e say! Me! Hafraid!" The skipper was purple with rage. +"Hafraid 'e says. 'E says it, a bloomin' Yankee kid, an' me as 'as 'ad +ships sunk under me twice by the bloody German submarines! Me, Captain +Jarvis, hafraid." + +He turned suddenly upon Curlie. "Go git yer togs an' shake a leg er the +bloomin' _Kittlewake_'ll be off without you on board." + +"That's the talk!" smiled Curlie. "Never fear! We'll be here." + +He turned to Joe. "You go ashore and buy us each a suit of roughing-it +things, a so'-wester and the like. We'll need 'em. I'll be back in less +than an hour." + +When Curlie returned from his mission ashore he carried but one bundle. +That resembled a fencepost in size and shape. It was carefully wrapped +and sealed in sticky black tar cloth. + +"Going to throw a message overboard in case we're lost, I suppose," +laughed Joe. + +"Something like that," Curlie laughed back. Nevertheless, he carried the +thing with great care to his stateroom and deposited it beneath his +berth in the cabin forward on the main deck. + +An hour later the two boys were standing on deck watching the shore +lights fade. Each was busy with his own thoughts and wondering, no +doubt, in his own way how much of adventure this trip held for him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A GHOST WALKS + + +"Ever take much interest in gasoline engines?" Curlie suddenly inquired +of Joe. + +"Yes, quite a bit; had a shift on one of those marine kinds last summer +on the Great Lakes." + +"Good! You'll have to take a shift here on the _Kittlewake_. This trip +can't be made without sleep. I'll spell the captain at the wheel and you +can relieve that lanky engineer." + +Again they lapsed into silence. Half unconsciously each boy was taking +stock of the craft they had requisitioned, trying to judge whether or +not she was equal to the task she had been put to. Speed she had in +plenty. "Do forty knots a 'our," the skipper put it, "an' never 'eat a +bearin'." + +She was a trim craft. Narrow of beam, a two-master with a steel hull +that stood well out of the water forward, she rode the water with the +repose and high glee of the bird she was named after. + +"Yes, she's a beauty, and a go-getter," Curlie was thinking to himself, +"but in a storm, now, four or five hundred miles from land, what then?" + +Had he known how soon his question was to be answered he might well have +shuddered. + +"Better go down and have a look at the engines before you turn in for a +wink of sleep," he told Joe. + +When Joe had gone below, Curlie still sat there on the rail aft. The +throb of the engines beneath him, the rapid rush of air that fanned his +cheek, was medicine to his weary brain. He had been caught in a +whirlwind of events and here, for a time, he had been cast down in a +quiet place where his mind might clear itself of the wreckage of thought +that had been torn up and strewn about within it. + +It had been a wild race. He had lost thus far; would he lose in the +end? Had he, after all, trusted too much to theory? Had these two sons +of rich men really only gone for some picnic trip to a well-known island +farther south along the coast? Or had they, as he had assumed, guided by +their ancient map, gone in search of the island of "many barbarians and +much gold," an island which he was convinced existed only in name? + +The girl, too; what had she meant when she said she was in some ways +responsible for her brother's actions? There was something queer about +the whole affair. Who had taken the wireless equipment from the wrecked +car out there by the Forest Preserve? Did young Ardmore have the ancient +original of that interesting map or only the photograph? If he did not +have it, who was in possession of it? Strange thing that it would be +lost for a hundred years only to have a brand-new photograph of it show +up all at once. Rather ghostly, he thought. He had meant to ask Gladys +Ardmore about that. He'd ask her now if she were here. But he was more +than glad she was not here. + +"No trip for a girl," he told himself, "and she said she'd go. Strange +she gave it up so easily. Strange that--" + +His thoughts broke off suddenly as he stared forward. The _Kittlewake_ +was equipped with three cabins; a forecastle and aftercabin, both below +the main deck, built largely for stormy weather, and a fair-weather +cabin in the center of the main deck. The night was dark, the moon not +having come up. It was difficult to distinguish objects at a distance, +but, unless his eyes deceived him, Curlie saw some object, all white and +ghostly, rising slowly from the hatchway leading to the forecastle. Cold +perspiration sprang out upon his brow, his heart beat madly, his knees +trembled as he involuntarily moved forward. That was the way he had of +treating ghosts; he walked straight at them. + +In the meantime, had one been on some craft three hundred miles farther +on in the direct course of the _Kittlewake_, he might have caught the +thunderous drumming of two powerful Liberty motors. He might also have +seen a spot of light playing constantly upon the black waters. While +this light was constant, it moved rapidly forward in a wide circle. The +circle was never the same in size or location, yet the spot of light did +not move more than twenty miles in any direction from a certain given +center. The spot of illumination came from a powerful searchlight +mounted upon a seaplane. It was manipulated by a boy in the rear seat. A +second boy drove the plane. These boys, as you have no doubt long since +guessed, were Vincent Ardmore and his reckless pal, Alfred Brightwood. + +This light had been playing upon the water since darkness had fallen, +some three hours before. They had been circling for four hours. Their +hopes of completing their search before dark had been thwarted by a +defective engine which had compelled them to make a landing upon the sea +when the journey was only half completed. + +At this particular moment the plane was climbing steadily. It was a +perfect "man-bird" of the air, was this _Stormy Petrel_. With broad +spreading planes and powerful motors, it was the type of plane that now +and again hops off from some point in England during the dewy morning +hours and carries her crew safely to Cuba without a single stop. + +Yet these boys were not planning a trip across to Europe. They were, as +Curlie had supposed they might be, hunting for the island of "many +barbarians and much gold." + +When they had mounted to a considerable height, Alfred shut off the +engines and allowed her to volplane toward the sea. + +"Aw, let's give it up and get back," said Vincent downheartedly. "It's +not here. Probably that old map-maker made a mistake of a trifling +hundred miles or so." + +"That's a grand idea!" exclaimed Brightwood, grasping at a straw. "Not a +hundred miles but perhaps thirty or forty miles. Old boy, we'll be +cooking lunch on a stove of pure gold in half an hour. You'll see! Just +get your light fixed right and I'll take a wider circle. That'll get +it." + +"But if we use up much more gas we won't get back to land," hesitated +Vincent. + +"Land! Who wants to get back to land!" the other exploded. "If worst +comes to worst we've got the wireless, haven't we? We can light on the +water and send out an S. O. S., can't we? I must say you're a mighty bum +sailor." + +"Oh, all right," said Vincent, stung into silence, "go ahead and try +it." + +Again the motors thundered. Again the spot light traced a circular path +across the dark waters, which to the boy who held the light, appeared to +be reaching up black, fiendish hands to drag them down. This time the +circle they cut was many miles in circumference, miles which drew deeply +from the supply of gasoline in their tanks. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE COMING STORM + + +As Curlie's feet carried him forward on the deck of the _Kittlewake_, +his eyes beheld the ghost which rose from the hatch taking on a familiar +form. A white middy blouse, short white skirt and a white tarn, worn by +a slender girl, moved forward to meet him. As the form came into the +square of light cast by a cabin window, his lips framed her name: + +"Gladys Ardmore!" + +"Why, yes," she smiled, "didn't you expect me? I told you I thought I'd +go." + +"And I said you should not." Her coolness angered him. + +"You forget that this is my father's boat. A man's daughter should +always be a welcome guest on his boat." + +"But--but that's not it," he hesitated. "This is not a pleasure trip. +We are going five hundred miles straight to sea in a boat intended for +shore travel. It's likely to storm." He sniffed the air and held his +cheek to the breeze that was already breaking the water into little +choppy waves. "It is going to be dangerous." + +"But you are going," she said soberly, "to the assistance of my brother. +I have a better right than you to risk my life to save my own brother. I +can be of assistance to you. Truly, I can. I can be the galley cook." + +"You a cook?" He looked his surprise. + +"Certainly. Do you think a rich man's daughter can do nothing but play +tennis and pour tea? Those times are gone, if indeed they ever existed. +I am as able to do things as is your sister, if you have one." + +"But," said Curlie suddenly, "I am going from a sense of duty. Having +set out to have your brother arrested I mean to do it." + +For a full moment she stared at him stupefied. Then she said slowly, +through set, white lips: "You wouldn't do that?" + +"Why shouldn't I?" His tone was more gentle. "He has broken the laws of +the air. Time and again he sent messages on 600, a radio wave length +reserved to coast and ship service alone. He has hindered sea traffic +and once narrowly escaped being the death of brave men at sea." + +"Oh," she breathed, sinking down upon a coil of cable, "I--didn't know +it was as bad as that. And I--I--knew all about it. I--I--" + +She did not finish but sat there staring at him. At last she spoke +again. Her tone was strained and husky with emotion. + +"You--you'll want to arrest me too when you know the truth." + +"You'll not be dragged into it unless you insist." + +"But I do insist!" She sprang to her feet. Her nails digging into her +clenched fists, she faced him. Her eyes were bright and terrible. + +"Do you think," she fairly screamed, "that I would be part of a thing +that was wrong, whether I knew it or not at the time, and then when +trouble came from it, do you think that I would sneak out of it and +allow someone else to suffer for it? Do you think I'd sneak out of it +because anyone would let me--because I am a girl?" + +Completely at a loss to know what to do upon this turn of events, Curlie +stood there staring back at the girl. + +She at last sank back upon her seat. Curlie took three turns around the +deck. At last he approached her with a steady step. + +"Miss Ardmore," he said, taking off his cap, "I apologize. I--I really +didn't know that a girl could be that kind of a real sport." + +Before she could answer he hurried on: "For the time being we can let +the matter we were just speaking of rest. Matters far more important +than the vindicating of the law, important as that always is, are before +us. Your brother and his friend, unless I am mistaken, are in grave +danger. We may be able to save them; we may not. We can but try and this +trial requires all our wisdom and strength. + +"More than that," he again held his face to the stiffening gale, "we +ourselves are in considerable danger. Whether this 'cockleshell,' as the +skipper calls her, can weather a severe storm on the open sea, is a +question. That question is to be answered within a few hours. We're in +for a blow. We're too far on our way to retreat if we wished to. We must +weather it. You can be of assistance to us as you suggest, and more than +that, you can help us by being brave, fearless and hopeful. May we count +on you?" + +There was a cold, brave smile on the girl's face as she answered: + +"You know my father. He has never yet been beaten. I am his child." + +Then suddenly, casting all reserve aside, she gripped his arm and +bestowing a warm smile upon him said almost in a whisper: + +"Curlie Carson, I like you. You're real, the realest person I ever +knew." Then turning swiftly about, she danced along the deck, to +disappear down the hatch to the forecastle. + +"Huh!" said Curlie, after a moment's thought, "I never could make out +what girls are like. But one thing I'm sure of: that one will drown or +starve or freeze when necessity demands it, without a murmur. You can +count on her!" + +Throwing a swift glance to where a thick bank of clouds was painting the +night sky the color of blue-black ink, he hurried below to consult with +the skipper about the weather. They were, he concluded, some three +hundred and fifty miles out to sea. If this storm meant grave dangers to +them, what must it mean to two boys in a seaplane skimming through the +air over the sea? He shivered at the thought. + +Fifteen minutes later, Curlie was in the small wireless cabin of the +_Kittlewake_. With a receiver clamped over his head, with a motor +purring at his feet and with the hum of wires and coils all about him, +he felt more at ease and at home than he had been for many hours. + +His talk with the skipper had confirmed his fears; they were in for a +blow. + +"A nor'-easter, sir," he had affirmed, "an' one you'll remember for many +a day. Oh! we'll weather 'er, sir; somehow we'll 'ave to weather 'er. +With the millionaire heiress aboard we'll 'ave to, worse luck for it. +We'll 'ammer down the 'atches an' let 'er ride if we 'ave to but it's a +jolly 'ard shaking habout we'll get, sir. But she's a 'arty, +clean-hulled little boat, she is, an' she'll ride 'er some'ow." + +After receiving this information, Curlie had gone directly to the +wireless cabin. He was more anxious than he was willing to admit for the +safety of his two charges, the millionaire's children; for Curlie did +think of them as his charges. He was used to taking burdens on his own +shoulders. It had always been his way. + +Just now he was listening in on 600, ready to pick up any message which +might come from the boys on the seaplane. That the _Stormy Petrel_ was a +doomed aircraft he had not the least doubt. The only question which +remained in his mind was whether the _Kittlewake_ or some other craft +would reach her in time to save the two reckless boys. + +Now and again as he listened he picked up a message from shore. The +center of the storm, which was fast approaching, was to the east, off +shore. Messages coming from the storm's direction would be greatly +disturbed by static. But to the west the air was still clear. + +Now he heard a ship off Long Island Sound speaking for a pilot; now some +shore station at Boston assigned to some ship a harbor space; and now +some powerful broadcasting station sent out to all the world a warning +against the rising storm. + +Tiring of all this, for a time he tuned his instrument to 200. + +"Be interesting to see how far short wave lengths and high power will +carry," was his mental comment. + +Now he caught a faint echo of a song; now a note of laughter; and now +the serious tones of some man speaking with his homefolks. + +But what was this? He fancied he caught a familiar whisper. Adjusting +his wires, adding all the amplifying power his instruments possessed, he +listened eagerly; then, to his astonishment heard his own nickname +spoken. + +"Hello, Curlie," came to him distinctly. Then, "Are you there? You +remember that big bad man, the one who used heaps of power on 1200? +Well, he's gone north--very far north. You'd want to follow him, Curlie, +if you knew what I know. The radiophone is going to do great things for +the north, Curlie. But men like him will spoil it all. Remember this, +Curlie: If you do go, be careful. Careful. He's a bad man and the stakes +are big!" The whisper ceased. The silence that followed it was ghostly. + +"And that," Curlie whispered softly, "came all the way from my dear old +home town. She thought I was still in the secret tower room. Fine chance +of my following that fellow up north. But when I get back I'll +investigate. There may be something big there, just as she says there +is. Yes, I'll look into it when I get back--if I do get back." + +He shivered as he caught the howl of the wind in the rigging. Then, +tuning his instrument back to 600, he listened once more for some +message from the seaplane, the _Stormy Petrel_. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +S. O. S. + + +The spot of light which raced across the waters of the sea where no land +was to be seen, where the black surface of the swiftly changing waters +shone always beneath the occupants of the seaplane, took on an ever +widening circle. There appeared to be no end to Alfred Brightwood's +belief that somewhere in the midst of all this waste of waters there was +an island. + +Vincent Ardmore had long since given up hope of becoming rich by this +mad adventure. His only hope, the one that gave strength to his arms +benumbed by long clinging to the flashlight and new sight to his eyes, +weary with watching, was that they might discover some bit of land, a +coral island, perhaps, where they might find refuge from the sea until a +craft, called to their aid, might rescue them. + +The thought of returning to the mainland he had all but abandoned. The +gas in the tank was too low for that; at least he was quite certain it +must be. + +There was a chance, of course, that if they alighted upon the water and +sent out an S. O. S., the international call for aid, they would be +answered by some near-by ship. But this seemed only a remote +possibility. He dared not hope it would happen. They were far from any +regular course of trans-Atlantic vessels and too far from shore to be +picked up by a coast vessel or a fishing smack. The very fact that this +island, marked so plainly on the ancient map, had been in this +particular spot, so remote from the main sea-roads, had strengthened +their belief that during all the centuries of travel it had been lost +from man's memory and hidden from his view. Now this very isolation, +since they were unable to locate this island, if indeed it existed at +all, threatened to be their undoing. + +Still they circled and circled with great, untiring sweeps. At last, +releasing the searchlight, Vincent put his lips to a speaking tube. + +"Let's light," he grumbled. "I'm dead. What's the use?" + +"What else can we do but keep looking?" Alfred answered. + +"Take a look at the gas. Maybe it will carry us back." + +Even as he spoke, a strange thing happened. The air appeared suddenly to +have dropped from beneath the plane. Straight down for fifty feet she +dropped. + +With the utmost difficulty Alfred succeeded in preventing her from +taking a nose dive into the sea. + +"She--she bumped," he managed to pant at last. "Something the matter +with the air." + +And indeed there was something about the atmospheric conditions which +they had not sensed. Busy as they had been they had not seen the black +bank of clouds to the northeast of them. With the wild rush of air from +sheer speed, they had not felt the increasing strength of the gale. Once +Vincent had fancied that the sea, far beneath them, seemed disturbed, +but so far beneath them was it that he could not tell. + +Now in surprise and consternation, as if to steady his reeling brain, he +gripped the fuselage beside him while he shrilled into the tube: + +"Look! Look over there! Lightning!" + +"Watch out, I'm going down," warned the other boy. "Going to light." + +To do this was no easy task. Three times they swooped low, to skim along +just over the crest of the waves, only to tilt upward again. + +"Looks bad," grumbled the young pilot. + +The fourth time, he dared it. With the spray spattering his goggles, he +sent the plane right into the midst of it. For a second it seemed that +nothing could save them, that the wave they had nose-dived into would +throw their plane end for end and land her on her back, with her two +occupants hopeless prisoners strapped head down to drown beneath her. + +But at last the powerful motors conquered and, tossed by the ever +increasing swells, the plane rode the sea like the stormy petrel after +which she had been named. + +"Quick!" exclaimed Alfred as the motors ceased to throb. "Strip off your +harness and get back to the tank." + +A moment later Vincent was making a perilous journey to the gas tank. +Twice the wind all but swept him into the sea; once a wave drenched him +with its chilling waters. When at last he reached his destination it was +only to utter a groan; more gas had been used than he had dared think. + +"Can't--can't make it," he mumbled as he struggled back to his place. + +"Have to send out an S. O. S. then. What wave length do you use? + +"You ought to know," exclaimed Vincent almost savagely. "You were the +one who insisted on using it when we were making up our plans." + +"Six hundred? Oh, yes," Alfred said indifferently. "Well, what of it?" + +"Just this much of it," said Vincent thoughtfully. "I've been going +over and over it in my mind the last little while. What if we send out +our S. O. S. now and some selfish landlubber such as we were is talking +about matters of little importance and muddles our message? We might be +left to drown." + +"Aw, can that sob stuff," grumbled Alfred angrily. "Are you going to +send that S. O. S. or am I?" + +"I will," said Vincent, preparing to climb to a position on the plane +above him where the radiophone was located. "But"--he suddenly began to +sway dizzily--"but where are we?" + +He sank back into his seat. For a full moment, with the waves tossing +the plane about and the black clouds mounting higher and higher, the two +boys stared at one another in silence. Yes, where were they? Who could +tell? They were not trained mariners. They could not have taken a +reckoning even had they been in possession of the needed instruments. + +"Why," said Alfred hesitatingly, "we must be somewhere near that spot +where the island was supposed to be located. That's as near as we can +come to it. Send out that latitude and longitude; then we'll climb back +into the air. We'll be safer there than on the water and we can keep the +searchlight shooting out flashes in all directions. A ship coming to our +aid will see the light." + +"If they come," Vincent whispered. + +"Hurry!" exclaimed Alfred, as a giant wave, rising above its mates, +threatened to tear their plane into shreds. + +With benumbed and trembling fingers the boy unwrapped his instruments, +adjusted a coil, twisted a knob and threw in his switch. Then his heart +stood still. The motor did not start. Had it been dampened and +short-circuited? Would it refuse to go? Were they already lost? + +Just as he was giving up in despair, there came a humming sound and a +moment later the well-known signal of distress had been flashed out +across the waves. Three times he repeated it. Three times in a few sharp +words he told their general location and their plight. Then with wildly +beating heart, he pressed the receivers to his ears and awaited a reply. + +A moment passed, two, three, four; but there came no answering call. +Only the buzz and snap of the ever-increasing static greeted his +straining ears. + +Once more he sent out the message; again he listened. Still no response. + +"C'm'on," came from the boy below. "It's getting dangerous. You can get +a message off in the air. Gotta get out o' here. Gotta climb. May not be +able to make it even now." + +As the other boy glanced down at the white-capped waves all about them +he realized that his companion spoke the truth. + +Hurriedly rewrapping his instruments, all but the receivers, which by +the aid of an extension he brought down with him, he made his way to his +seat and strapped on his harness. + +"All right," he breathed. + +Once more the motors thundered. For a long distance they raced through +blinding spray. Little by little this diminished until with a swoop, +like a sea gull, the magnificent plane shot upward. The next instant +they felt a dash of cold rain upon their cheeks. Was the storm upon +them? Or was this merely a warning dash which had reached them far in +advance of the deluge? For the moment they could not tell. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A CONFESSION + + +For an hour Curlie Carson had been seated in the radiophone cabin of the +_Kittlewake_. During that time his delicately adjusted amplifier and his +wonderful ears had enabled him to pick up many weird and unusual +messages. Listening in at sea before a great storm is like wandering on +the beach after that same storm; you never can tell what you may pick +up. But though fragments of many messages had come to him, not one of +any importance to the _Kittlewake_ had reached his ears. If during that +time any message from the _Stormy Petrel_ had been sent out, it had been +lost in the crash and snap of static which now kept up a constant din in +his ears. + +Again doubt assailed him. He had no positive knowledge that the boys in +the plane had gone in search of that mysterious island of the old +chart. They might, for all he knew, be at this moment enjoying a rich +feast on some island off the coast of America. + +"Cuba, for instance," he told himself. "Not at all impossible. Short +trip for such a seaplane." + +"And here," he grumbled angrily to himself, "here I am risking my own +life and the life of my companions and crew, inviting death to all +these, and this on a mere conjecture. Guess I'm a fool." + +The gale was rising every moment. Even as he spoke the prow of the boat +reared in air, to come down with such an impact as made one believe she +had stepped on something solid. + +Just when Curlie's patience with himself and all the rest of the world +was exhausted, Joe Marion opened the door. The wind, boosting him across +the threshold, slammed the door after him. + +"Whew!" he sputtered. "Going to be rotten. Tell you what, I don't like +it. Dangerous, I'd say!" + +"Nothing's dangerous," smiled Curlie, greatly pleased to see that +someone at least was more disturbed than himself. "Nothing's really +dangerous since the invention of the radiophone. Ocean, desert, Arctic +wilderness; it's all the same. Sick, lost, shipwrecked? All you've got +to do is keep your head clear and your radiophone dry and tuned up. +It'll find you a way out." + +"Yes, but," hesitated Joe, "how the deuce you going to pack a radiophone +outfit, all those coils, batteries and boxes, when you're shipwrecked? +How you going to keep 'em dry with the rain pelting you from above and +the salt water beating at you from below? Lot of sense to that! Huh!" he +grunted contemptuously. "That for your radiophone!" He snapped his +finger. "And that for your old sloppy ocean! Give me a square yard of +good old terra firma and I'll get along without all your modern +inventions." + +"It can be done, though," said Curlie thoughtfully. + +"What can?" + +"Radiophone kept dry after a wreck at sea." + +"How?" + +Curlie did not answer the question. Instead, he snapped the receiver +from his head and handed it to Joe. + +"Take this and listen in." He rose stiffly. "This business is getting on +my nerves. I've got to get out for a breath of splendid fresh sea +breeze." + +"Nerves?" said Joe incredulously. "You got nerves?" + +"Sometimes. Just now I have." + +On the deck Curlie experienced difficulty in walking. As he worked his +way forward he found that one moment his legs were far too long and his +foot came down with a suddenness that set his teeth chattering; the next +moment his legs had grown suddenly short. It was like stepping down +stairs in the dark and taking two steps at a time when you expected to +take but one. + +"Never saw such a rumpus on the sea," he grumbled. "Going to be worse," +he told himself as a chain of lightning, leaping across the sky, +illumined the bank of black clouds that lay before them. "Going to be +lots worse." + +Poking his head into the wheel-house, he bellowed above the storm: +"How's she go?" + +"Seen worse'n 'er," the skipper shouted back. + +"Ought to be at the spot we started for in half an hour--that island on +the old chart." + +"Never was no island," the skipper roared. + +"Maybe not." + +"Supposin' we get there, what then?" + +"Don't know yet." + +The skipper stared at Curlie for a full moment as if attempting to +determine whether he were insane, then turned in silence to his wheel. + +The wind blew the door shut and Curlie resumed his long-legged, +short-legged march. + +He had done three turns around the deck when his eyes caught a small +figure crumpled up on the pile of ropes forward. + +"Hello," he cried, "you out here?" + +Gladys did not answer at once. She was straining her eyes as if to see +some object which might be hovering above the jagged, sea-swept skyline. + +"No," said Curlie, as if in answer to a question, "you couldn't see the +plane. You couldn't see it fifty fathoms away and then it would flash by +you like a carrier pigeon. No use if you did see it. Couldn't do +anything. But there's one chance in a million of their coming into our +line of vision, so it's no use watching. Only chance is a radiophone +message giving their location." + +"But I--I want to. I--I ought to do something." For the first time he +noticed how white and drawn her face was. + +"All right," he said in a quiet voice, "you just sit where you are and +I'll sit here beside you and you tell me one or two things. That will +help." + +"Tell--tell what?" + +"Tell me this: Did your brother have the original of that old map?" + +"Yes," her tone was already quieting down, "yes, he did, or Alfred +Brightwood did. His father is very rich and he has a hobby of collecting +very old editions of books. He pays terrible prices for them. He bought +an old, old copy of 'Marco Polo's Travels'; paid fifteen thousand +dollars for it. And inside its cover Alfred found that old map with the +curious writing on the back of it. + +"He thought right away that it might hide some great secret, so he had +it photographed and sent the photo to Vincent. Vincent got a great +scholar to read the writing for him. He never told me what the writing +was; said that no one but he and Alfred should know; that it was a great +secret and that girls couldn't keep secrets, so I was not to know. + +"But they can keep secrets!" she exploded, breaking off from her +narrative. "They do keep secrets--more secrets than boys do. Wonderful +and terrible secrets sometimes!" + +"All right," smiled Curlie, "I agree with you, absolutely, but what did +they do then?" + +"Well," the girl pressed her temples as if to drive the thoughts of the +present from her. "They--why then Alfred called Vincent by radiophone on +600. Vincent was terribly afraid to answer on 600, but he did. And then, +because he thought the discovery of the map was so awfully important, he +rigged up a radiophone on his auto and I--I"--she buried her face in her +hands--"I helped him. I was with him in the car; drove while he sent the +messages, all but that last night, when the car was wrecked. + +"I--I know I shouldn't have done it. I knew all the time it was wrong, +but Alfred was stubborn and wouldn't talk on anything but 600--said he +had as much right on 600 as anyone else--so we did it." + +"And then the car was wrecked?" suggested Curlie. He felt a trifle mean +about making the girl tell, but he knew she would be more comfortable +once she got it out of her system. People are that way. + +"Yes," she said, "someone shot his tire and wrecked his machine. I found +the car, first thing in the morning, and when I saw Vincent wasn't +there I got two big packing baskets that we once used in the Rockies and +put them on my horse. Then I went back and got all that radio stuff and +took it home and hid it. Do you think I did wrong?" The eyes she turned +to his were appealing ones. + +"Maybe you did," said Curlie huskily, "but that doesn't matter now; +you're paying for it all right--going to pay for it in full before this +voyage is over. The thing you must try to think of now is the present, +the little round present that is right here now. And you must try to be +brave." + +"And--and"--she said in a faltering voice--"do you think Vincent is +paying for what he did?" + +"I shouldn't be surprised." + +"Then you won't have to arrest him if he's already punished?" The +appealing eyes were again upon him. + +At that moment Curlie did a strange thing, so strange that the words +sounded preposterous to his own ears: + +"No," he said slowly, "I won't, unless--unless he asks me to." + +"Oh!" she breathed, "thank you." She placed her icy-cold hand on his for +a second. + +"You're freezing!" he exclaimed suddenly. "You'll be making yourself +sick. You must get inside!" + +"I'll go to the lounging cabin in mid-deck. The forecastle is so--so +lonesome," she stammered. "If you need me, you'll find me there." + +Feeling her way along the rail, she disappeared into the darkness. + +At almost the same moment there came the bellowing sound of a voice that +could be heard above the roar of the storm: + +"Curlie! Curlie! Come here! Something coming in. Can't make it out!" + +It was Joe Marion. Stumbling aft, now banging his feet down hard and now +treading on empty air, Curlie made his way to the radiophone cabin. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +A BLINDING FLASH OF LIGHT + + +"It's an S. O. S.," screamed Joe at the top of his voice, as Curlie came +hurrying up. "They sent that much in code and I got it all right. Then +they tried to tell me their troubles and all I got was a mumble and +grumble mixed with static, which meant nothing at all to me. Repeated it +three times. Very little space in between. Should have called you, I +guess, but there really wasn't time; besides I kept thinking I'd start +getting what he sent." + +"Where'd it come from?" Curlie asked as he snapped the receiver over his +head. + +"Straight out of the storm. Fifty or sixty miles northeast." + +Curlie groaned. "That's what I get for being impatient. Ought to have +stayed right here. It's those boys all right and we've missed them; may +never pick them up again." + +For a time there was silence in the wireless cabin, such a silence as +one experiences in the midst of a rising storm. The flap of ropes, the +creak of yard-arms, the rush of waves which were already washing the +deck, the chug-chug-chug of the prow of the brave little craft as she +leaped from wave-crest to wave-crest; all this made such music as an +orchestra might, had every man musician of them gone mad. And this was +the "silence" Curlie did not for a long time break. + +"Well!" he shouted at last, "that settles one thing. I was right. They +did go in search of that mythical island." + +"You can't be sure," said Joe. "Might have been a fishing boat led off +her course by a chase after a whale. You never can tell." + +"No, that's right," Curlie agreed. + +"What makes you so sure the island on that map is mythical?" asked Joe. + +"Doesn't sound reasonable." + +"Lots of things don't. Take the radiophone; it wouldn't have sounded +reasonable a few years ago. Lot of new things wouldn't. A new island is +discovered somewhere about every year. Why not around here?" + +"Anyway, I don't believe it," shouted Curlie. + +Yet, after all, as he thought of it now he found himself hoping against +hope that there was some such island. It wasn't the gold he was thinking +of, but a haven of refuge. This storm was going to be a bad one. He +fancied it was going to be one of the worst experienced on the Atlantic +for years. If only there were somewhere a sheltered nook into which this +cockleshell of a craft they were riding on might be driven, it would +bring him great relief. He thought a little of Joe, of the skipper and +the engineer, but he thought a great deal about the girl. + +"No place for a girl," he mumbled. "Perhaps," he tried to tell himself, +"there is an island, a very small island overlooked for centuries by +navigators; perhaps those boys have found it. Perhaps they were merely +sending out an S. O. S. to get someone to bring them gas to carry them +home. But rat!" he exploded, "I don't believe it. Don't--" + +He cut himself short to press the receivers tight against his ears. He +was getting something. Quickly he manipulated the coil of his radio +compass. Yes, it was an S. O. S.! And, yes, it was coming directly out +of the storm. But what was this they were saying? "Two boys--" He got +that much, but what was that? Strain his ears as he might, he could not +catch another word. + +But now--now he believed he was about to get it. Moving the coil +backward and forward he strained every muscle in his face in a mad +effort to understand. Yes, yes, that was it! Then, just as he was +getting it a terrible thing happened. There came a blinding flash of +light, accompanied by a rending, tearing, deafening crash. He felt +himself seized by some invisible power which wrenched every muscle, +twisted every joint in his body, then flung him limp and motionless to +the floor. + +When he came to himself, Joe and the girl were bending over him. Joe +was tearing at the buttons of his shirt. The girl was rocking backward +and forward. All but overcome with excitement, she was still attempting +to chafe his right hand. When she saw him open his eyes she uttered a +little cry, then toppled over in a dead faint. + +"Wha--what happened?" Curlie's lips framed the words. + +"Lightning," shouted Joe. "Protectors must have got damp. +Short-circuited. Raised hob. Burned out about everything, I guess." + +"Can't be as bad as that. Tend to the girl," Curlie nodded toward the +corner. + +Joe ducked out of the cabin, to appear a moment later with a cold, damp +cloth. This he spread over the girl's forehead. A moment later she sat +up and looked about her. + +Curlie was sitting up also. He was rubbing his head. When he saw the +girl looking at him he laughed and sang: + + "Oh, a sailor's life is a merry life, + And it's a sailor's life for me. + +"But say!" he exclaimed suddenly, "what was I doing when things went to +pieces?" + +Joe nodded toward the radiophone desk where coils and instruments lay +piled in tangled confusion. + +"You were getting a message from out the storm." + +"Oh yes, and they gave me their location. It was--no, I haven't it. +Lightning drove it right out of my head. Let me think. Let me +concentrate." + +For a full moment there was silence, the silence of the raging sea. Then +Curlie shook his head sadly. + +"No, I can't remember," his lips framed the words. It was unnecessary +that he shout them aloud. + +"Oh!" exclaimed the girl, and for a moment it seemed that she would +faint again. But she controlled herself bravely. + +"We'll find them yet," she forced a brave smile. "It's a comfort just to +know they're still alive, that they're near us, at least not too far +away for us to save them if we can only find them." + +Again there was silence. Then Curlie rose unsteadily to his feet. + +"Give us a hand here, Joe, old scout," he said. "We'll get this thing +back in shape. There are extra vacuum tubes, tuning-coils and the like, +and plenty of all kinds of wire. We'll manage it somehow--got to." + +The girl rose, to sink upon a seat in the corner. + +"That's right," shouted Curlie. "You stay right here. We'll be company +for each other. Fellow needs company on a night like this. Besides, I've +got something to say, a lot to say, to you and Joe as soon as the +radiophone is tuned up again. Got to say it before I get killed again," +he chuckled. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE STORMY PETREL GETS AN ANSWER + + +The dash of rain which beat like a volley of lead upon the fuselage of +the seaplane as she rose above the spray lasted but a moment. + +"Just a warning of what's to come," Vincent called through the tube. +"Think we could run away from the storm?" + +"We'd just get lost on the ocean and not know what location to +radiophone," grumbled his companion. "Better keep circling. We can get +above the storm if we must." + +Once more the weary circle was commenced. With little hope of sighting +land, Vincent still fixed his gaze upon the black waters below, while he +sent the flash of light, now far to the right, now to the left, and now +straight beneath them. + +"Someone must have caught our S. O. S." he told himself. "We ought to +get sight of their lights pretty soon. But then," his hopes grew faint, +"not many ships in these seas. Might not have heard us. Might not be +able to reach us. Might--" + +He broke off abruptly. A blinding flash of lightning had illumined the +waters for miles in every direction. In that flash his eyes had seen +something; at least, he thought they had; some craft away to the left of +them; a craft which reminded him of one he had sailed upon many a time; +his father's yacht, the _Kittlewake_. + +"But of course it couldn't be," he told himself. "Nobody'd be crazy +enough to--" + +A second flash illumined the water, but this time, strain his eyes as he +might, he caught no glimpse of craft of any sort. + +"Must have dreamed it," he muttered. He closed his eyes for a second and +in that second saw his sister Gladys clearly mirrored on his mind's +vision. She was staggering down a pitching deck. + +"Huh!" he muttered, shaking himself violently, "this business is +getting my goat. I'll be delirious if I don't watch out." + +Again he fixed his gaze upon the spot of light as it traveled over the +water. + +He had kept steadily at the task for fifteen minutes, was wondering how +much longer the gas would hold out, wondering, too, whether the storm +was ever going to break, when he caught the pilot's signal in the tube. + +"How about trying another message?" his companion called. + +"Up here?" he asked in dismay. + +"I know--awful dangerous. But we've got to risk something. Lost if we +don't." + +"All right, I'll try." He began cautiously to unbuckle his harness. + +Scarcely had he loosened two of the three straps which held him in place +when the plane gave a sudden lurch. Having struck a pocket, it dropped +like an elevator cage released from its cable, straight down. + +"Oh--ah!" he exclaimed as he caught at a rod just in time to escape +being hurled away. + +"Got to be careful," he told himself, "awful careful! Have to hold on +with one hand while I work with the other. Feet'll help too." + +When the plane had settled again, he loosened the last strap, then began +with the utmost caution to drag himself to the surface of the plane +above him. + +Once a vivid flash of lightning showed him the dizzy depths beneath him. +He was at that moment clinging to a rod with both hands. His legs were +twined about a second. Thus he hung suspended out over two thousand feet +of air and as many fathoms of water. + +For a moment a dizzy sickness overcame him, but this passed away. Again +he struggled to gain the platform above. This time he was successful. + +Even here he did not abandon caution. The straps were still about his +waist. One of these he fastened to a rod. Then with one hand he clung to +the framework before him, while with the other he worked at the task of +adjusting instruments. + +"Slow business," he murmured. "Maybe it won't work when I get through. +Maybe too damp. Maybe it--" + +Suddenly he found himself floating in air, like the tail of a kite. Only +the strap and his viselike grip saved him. The plane had struck another +pocket. + +He was at last thrown back upon the platform with such force as dashed +the air from his lungs and a large part of his senses from his brain. + +After a moment of mental struggle he resumed his task. He worked +feverishly now. The fear that he might be seriously injured before he +had completed it had seized him. + +"Now," he breathed at last, "now we'll see!" + +His hand touched a switch. The motor buzzed. + +"Ah! She works! She works!" he exulted. + +Then with trembling fingers he sent out the signal of distress. He +followed this with their location, also in code. Three times he repeated +the message. Then snapping on his receiver, he strained his ear to +listen. + +"Ah!--" his lips parted. He was getting something. Was it an answer? He +could scarcely believe his ears. Yet it came distinctly: + +"Yacht _Kittlewake_, Curlie--" + +Just at that moment the plane gave a sickening swerve. Caught off his +balance, the boy was thrown clear off the platform. The receiver +connection snapped. He hung suspended by the single strap. Madly his +hands flew out to grasp at the pitching rods. Just in time he seized +them; the strap had broken. + +With the agility of a squirrel he let himself down to his old place +behind his companion. To buckle on the remaining straps was the work of +a moment. Then, in utter exhaustion and despair, he allowed his head to +sink upon his chest. + +"And I was getting--getting an answer," he gasped. + +His companion had seen nothing of his fall. Glancing behind him for a +second, he saw Vincent in his seat in the fuselage. + +"What'd you come down for?" + +"Got shaken down." + +"Get anything?" + +"Was getting. Queer thing that! Got the name of my father's yacht and +the word 'Curly.' Then the plane lurched and spilled me off. Jerked the +receiver off too. Queer about that message! Thought I saw the +_Kittlewake_ on the sea a while ago, but then I thought it couldn't +be--thought I was getting delirious or something." + +"Going back up?" + +"I--I'll--In a moment or two I'll try." + +A few moments later he did try, but it was no use. His nerve was gone. +His knees trembled so he could scarcely stand. His hands shook as with +the palsy. It is a terrible thing for a climber to lose his nerve while +in the air. + +"No use," he told himself. "I'd only get shaken off again and next time +I'd be out of luck. Shame too, just when I was getting things." + +Again he caught his companion's call. + +"Storm's almost here! Guess we'll have to climb." + +Even as he spoke, there came a flash of lightning which revealed a solid +black bank of clouds which seemed a wall of ebony. It was moving rapidly +toward them; was all but upon them. + +"Better climb; climb quick," he breathed through the tube. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE MAP'S SECRET + + +While all these things were happening to the boys on the seaplane, +Curlie Carson and Joe Marion were working hard to repair the damage done +to their radiophone set by the lightning. With the boat pitching about +as it was, and with the wind and waves keeping up a constant din, it was +a difficult task. + +Just what coils and instruments had been burned out it was difficult to +tell. All these must be tested out by the aid of a storage battery. When +the defective parts had been discarded, it was necessary to piece +together, out of the remaining parts and the extra equipment, an +entirely new set. + +"Have to use a two-stage amplifier," shouted Curlie, making himself +heard above the storm. + +"Lower voltage on the grid, too," Joe shouted back. + +"Guess it'll be fairly good, though," said Curlie, working feverishly. +"Only hope it didn't burn out the insulation on our aerials. Want to get +her going again quick. Want to bad. Lot may depend on that." + +The insulation on the aerials was not burned out. After many minutes of +nerve-racking labor they had the equipment together again and were ready +to listen in. + +Curlie flashed a short message in code, giving the name of their boat +and its present location, then, with the receiver tightly clamped over +his ears, he settled back in his chair. + +For some time they sat there in silence, the two boys and Gladys +Ardmore. + +The beat of the waves was increasing. The wind was still rising, but as +yet no rain was falling. + +"Queer storm," shouted Joe. "Haven't gotten into it yet. Will though and +it's going to be bad. Skipper says the only thing we can do is to fasten +down all the hatches and hold her nose to the storm." + +"Better see about the hatches," shouted Curlie. + +Throwing open the door, letting in a dash of salt spray and a cold rush +of wind as he did so, Joe disappeared into the dark. + +Curlie and the girl were alone. The seat the girl occupied was clamped +solidly to the wall. It had broad, strong arms and to these she clung. +She was staring at the floor and seemed half asleep. + +When Joe disappeared, Curlie once more became conscious of her presence +and at once he was disturbed. Who would not have been disturbed at the +thought of a delicate girl, accustomed to every luxury, being thrown +into such desperate circumstances as they were in at the present moment. + +"Not my fault," he grumbled to himself. "I didn't want her to go. +Wouldn't have allowed her, either, had I known about it." + +"Not your fault?" his inner self chided him. "Suppose you didn't plan +this trip?" + +"Well, anyway," he grumbled, "she needn't have come along, and, +besides, circumstances have justified my theories. They are out here +somewhere, those two boys, and since they are it's up to someone to try +to save them." + +Then suddenly he remembered that he had something to say to the girl. He +opened his mouth to shout to her, but closed it again. + +"Better wait till Joe comes," he told himself. "The more people there +are to hear it, the more chances there are of its getting back to +shore." + +Joe blew back into the cabin a few moments later. + +"Everything all right?" Curlie shouted. + +At the sound of his voice, the girl started, looked up, then smiled; Joe +nodded his head. + +"Say, Joe, I'm hungry," shouted Curlie. "There's bread in the forward +cabin and some milk in a thermos bottle. Couldn't manage coffee, but +toast and milk'd be fine." + +The girl sprang to her feet as if to go for the required articles, but +Joe pushed her back into her chair. + +"Not for you," he shouted. "It's gettin' dangerous." + +"Joe," said Curlie, "there's a small electric toaster there in the +cabin. Disconnect it and bring it in here. We'll connect it up and make +the toast right here." + +When the toaster had been connected, the girl, happy in the knowledge +that she was able to be of service, toasted the bread to a brown quite +as delicate as that to be found on a landlubber's table. + +"Now," said Curlie as they sat enjoying this meager repast, "I've got +something to tell you, something that I want someone else beside me to +know. It's going to be an ugly storm and the _Kittlewake_ is no +trans-Atlantic liner. We may all get back to shore. We may not. If one +of you do and I don't, I want you to tell this. It--it will sort of +justify my apparent rashness in dragging you off on this wild trip." + +He moved his chair close to the stationary seat of the girl and, +gripping one of the arms of the seat, motioned Joe to move up beside +them. It was only thus that he might be heard unless he were to shout at +the top of his voice. + +"You know," he said, a strange smile playing over his thin lips, "you +folks probably have thought it strange that I should go rushing off on a +trip like this without any positive knowledge that those two boys had +started for that mysterious island shown on the map and spoken of in the +writing on the back of the map, but you see I had more information than +you thought. This I know for an almost positive fact," he leaned forward +impressively: "The mysterious island of the chart does not exist." + +"Oh!" the girl started back. + +"It's a fact," said Curlie, "and I'll give you my proof." + +He paused for a second. The girl leaned forward eagerly. Joe was all +attention. + +"When I went into that big library," he continued, "I was determined to +find all the truth regarding that map that was to be had there. While +you were looking at those ancient maps," he turned to Gladys, "I went +into a back room and there the lady in charge gave me some bound +reproductions of ancient maps to look at and some things to read, among +them a volume of the 'Scottish Geographic Magazine.' I read them through +carefully and--" + +Suddenly he started violently, then clasped the receivers close to his +ears. + +"Just a moment. Getting something," he muttered. + +A second later he seized a pencil and marked down upon a pad a series of +dots and dashes. + +Then, wheeling about, he put his fingers on a key to flash back an +answer. + +"It's the boys," he shouted. "Got their location. Joe, decode what I +wrote there, then go ask the skipper how much we're off it." + +He turned once more to click off his message, a repetition of the first +one; then he shouted a second message into his transmitter. + +Joe Marion studied the pad for a moment, then rushed out of the cabin. + +All alert, Curlie sat listening for any further message which might +reach him. Presently Joe returned. There was a puzzled look upon his +face. + +"Skipper says," he shouted, "that the point you gave me is the exact +location of the island shown on that ancient map and that we must be +about ten knots to the north of it. When I told him that the boys were +in a seaplane at that point, he suddenly became convinced that there +must be an island out there somewhere and refused to change his course. + +"'For,' he says, 'if they've been sending messages from a plane in a +gale like this they must be on the ground to do it and if on the ground, +where but on an island? And if there's an island, how are we going to +get up to her in the storm that's about to hit us. We'll be piled on the +rocks and smashed in pieces.' That's what he said; said we'd be much +safer in the open sea." + +Curlie stared at the floor. His mind was in a whirl. Here he had been +about to furnish proof that the mysterious island did not exist and just +at that instant there came floating in from the air proof of the +island's actual existence, proof so strong that even a seasoned old salt +believed it and refused to change his course. What was he to say to +that! + +Fortunately, or unfortunately, he was to be given time enough to think +about it, for at that moment, with an unbelievable violence the storm +broke. + +As they felt the impact of it, it was as if the staunch little craft had +run head on into one of those steel nets used during the war for +trapping submarines. She struck it and from the very force of the blow, +recoiled. The thing she had struck, however, was not a steel net but a +mountain of waters flanked by such a volume of wind as is seldom seen on +the Atlantic. + +"It's the end of the _Kittlewake_," thought Curlie. "You take care of +her," he shouted in Joe's ear, at the same time jerking his thumb at +Gladys. The next second he disappeared into the storm. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +A SEA ABOVE A SEA + + +When Alfred Brightwood had tilted the nose of the _Stormy Petrel_ upward +and away from the threatening bank of clouds she rose rapidly. A +thousand, two thousand, three, four, five thousand feet she mounted to +dizzy heights above the sea. + +As they mounted, the stars, swinging about in the sky, like incandescent +bulbs strung on a wire, made their appearance here and there. They came +out rapidly, by twos and threes, by scores and hundreds. In clusters and +fantastic figures they swam about in the purple night. + +Almost instantly the sea disappeared from beneath them and in its place +came a new sea; a sea of dark rushing clouds. Rising two thousand feet +above the level of the ocean, this mass of moisture hanging there in the +sky took on the appearance of a second sea. As Vincent looked down upon +it he found it easy to believe that were they to drop slowly down upon +it, they would be seized upon and torn this way, then that by the +violence of the storm that was even now raging beneath them, and that +their plane would be cast at last, a shapeless mass, upon the real sea +which was roaring and raging beneath it. + +"How wonderful nature is!" he breathed. "It would be magnificent were it +not so terrible." + +He was thinking of the gasoline in their tank and he shuddered. Would it +last until the storm had passed, or would they be obliged to volplane +down into that seething tempest? + +He put his lips to the tube. "You better use just enough gas to keep us +afloat," he suggested. + +Alfred muttered something like, "Think I'm a fool?" Then for a long +time, with the black sea of clouds rising and falling, billowing up like +the walls of a mammoth tent, then sagging down to rise again, they +circled and circled. They were not circling now in search of adventure, +to find some island which might bring them great wealth, but to preserve +life. How long that circling could last, neither could tell. + + * * * * * + +When Curlie Carson left the wireless cabin of the _Kittlewake_, he +grasped a rail which ran along the cabin, just in time to prevent +himself from being washed overboard by a giant wave. As it was, the +water lifted his feet from the deck and, having lifted him as the wind +lifts a flag, it waved him up and down three times, at last to send him +crashing, knees down, on the deck. The wind was half knocked out of him, +but he was still game. He did not attempt to regain the wireless cabin +but fought his way along the side of that cabin toward his own stateroom +door. + +Now a vivid flash of light revealed the water-washed deck. A coil of +rope, all uncoiled by the waves, was wriggling like a serpent in the +black sea. + +"No use to try to save it," he mumbled. "No good here, anyhow." + +A yellow light, hanging above his stateroom door, dancing dizzily, +appeared at one moment to take a plunge into the sea and at the next to +dash away into the ink-black sky. + +Curlie was drenched to the skin. He was benumbed with the cold and +shocked into half insensibility at the tremendous proportions of the +storm. He wondered vaguely about the engineer below. Was the water +getting at the engines? He still felt the throb of them beneath his +feet. Well, that much was good anyway. And the skipper? Was he still at +the wheel? Must be, for the yacht continued to take the waves head-on. + +Short and light as she was, the craft appeared to leap from wave-crest +to wave-crest. Now she missed the leap by a foot and the water drenched +her deck anew. And now she overstepped and came down with a solid impact +that set her shuddering from stern to keel. + +"Good old _Kittlewake_," he murmured, "you sure were built for rough +service!" + +But now he had reached his stateroom door. With a lurch he threw open +the door, with a second he fell through, a third slammed it shut. + +One second his eyes roved about the place; the next his lips parted as +something bumped against his foot. + +Stooping, he lifted up a long affair the size and shape of a round cedar +fencepost. It was this he had brought aboard just before sailing. It had +been shaken down and had been rolling about the floor. + +Having examined its wrapping carefully, he shook it once or twice. + +"Guess you're all right," he muttered. "And you had better be! A whole +lot depends on you in a pinch." + +His eyes roved about the room. At length, snatching a blanket from his +berth, he tore it into strips. Then, throwing back his mattress, he +placed the postlike affair beneath it and lashed it firmly to the +springs. + +"There!" he exclaimed with much satisfaction, "you'll be safe until +needed, if you _are_ needed, and--and you never can tell." + + * * * * * + +The end of the seaplane's last flirt with death and destruction came +suddenly and without warning. Overcome as he was by constant watching, +dead for sleep and famished for food, Vincent Ardmore had all but fallen +asleep in his seat on the fuselage when a hoarse snort from one of the +motors, followed quickly by a rattling grate from the other, startled +him into complete wakefulness. + +The silence which followed these strange noises was appalling. It was +like the lull before a hurricane. + +"Gas is gone," said Alfred. There was fear and defiance in his tone, +defiance of Nature which he believed had treated him badly "Have to go +down now." + +"Go down!" Vincent shivered at the thought. Go down to what? + +He glanced below, then a ray of hope lighted his face. The storm was +passing--had all but passed. The clouds beneath them were no longer +densely black. A mere mist, they hung like a veil over the sea. + +"But the water?" His heart sank. "It will still be raging." + +The storm had not so far passed as he at first thought. The plane cut a +circling path as she descended. Her wings were broad; her drop was +gradual. As they entered the first layer of clouds, she gave a lurch +forward, but with wonderful control the young pilot righted her. Seconds +passed, then again she tipped, this time more perilously. But again she +was righted. Now she was caught in a little flurry of wind that set her +spinning. A nose-dive seemed inevitable, but once more she came to +position. Now, as they neared the surface of the sea, a wild, racing +wind, the tail of the storm, seized them and hurled them headlong before +it. In its grasp, there was no longer thought of control. The only +question now was how they would strike the water and when. The very rush +of the wind tore the breath from Vincent's lungs. Crushed back against +the fuselage, he awaited the end. Once, twice, three times they turned +over in a mad whirl. Then, with a sudden rending crash and a wild burst +of spray, they struck. + +The plane had gone down on one wing. For a second she hung suspended +there. Vincent caught his breath. If she went one way there was a +chance; if the other, there was none. He thought of loosening his +straps, but did not. So he hung there. Came a sudden crash. The right +motor had torn from its lashings and plunged into the sea. + +The next second the plane settled to the left. Saved for a moment, the +boy drew a deep breath. A second crash and the remaining motor was gone. +During this crash the boy was completely submerged, but the buoyant +plane brought him up again. Then, for a moment, he was free to think, to +look about him. Instinctively his eyes sought the place where his +companion had been seated. It was empty. Alfred was gone. + +Covering his eyes with his hands, he tried to tell himself it was not +true. Then, suddenly uncovering them, he searched the surface of the +troubled sea. Once he fancied he caught a glimpse of a white hand above +a wave. He could not be sure; it might have been a speck of foam. Only +one thing he could be sure of; his throbbing brain told it to him over +and over: Alfred Brightwood, his friend, was gone--gone forever. The sea +had swallowed him up. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE BOATS ARE GONE + + +When Curlie Carson had fastened the mysterious post-shaped affair to the +springs of his berth, he fought his way against wind, waves and darkness +back to the radiophone cabin. + +"Anything come in?" he asked as he shook the dampness from his clothing. + +"Nothing I could make out," shouted Joe. "Got something all jumbled up +with static once but couldn't make it out." Rising, he took the receiver +from his head and handed it to Curlie. Then, as the craft took a sudden +plunge, he leaped for a seat. Missing it, he went sprawling upon the +floor. + +In spite of the seriousness of their dilemma, the girl let forth a +joyous peal of laughter. Joe's antics as he attempted to rise were too +ridiculous for words. + +There was tonic for all of them in that laugh. They felt better because +of it. + +Some moments after that, save for the wild beat of the storm, there was +silence. Then, clapping the receivers to his ears, Curlie uttered an +exclamation. He was getting something, or at least thought he was. Yes, +now he did get it, a whisper. Faint, indistinct, mingled with static, +yet audible enough, there came the four words: + +"Hello there, Curlie! Hello!" + +At that moment the currents of electricity playing from cloud to cloud +set up such a rattle and jangle of static that he heard no more. + +"It's that girl in my old home town, in that big hotel," he told +himself. "To think that her whisper would carry over all those miles in +such a gale! She's sending on 600. Wonder why?" + +"Ah, well," he breathed, when nothing further had come in, "I'll unravel +that mystery in good time, providing we get out of this mess and get +back to that home burg of ours. But now--" + +Suddenly he started and stared. There had come a loud bump against the +cabin; then another and another. + +"It's the boats!" he shouted. "They've torn loose. Should have known +they would. Should have thought of that. Here!" He handed the receiver +to Joe and once more dashed out into the storm. + +The _Kittlewake_ carried two lifeboats. As he struggled toward where +they should have been, some object swinging past him barely missed his +head. + +Instantly he dropped to the deck, at the same time gripping at the rail +to save himself from being washed overboard. + +"That," he told himself, "was a block swinging from a rope. The boat on +this side is gone. Worse luck for that! We--we might need 'em before +we're through with this." + +Slowly he worked his way along the rail toward the stern. Now and again +the waves that washed the deck lifted him up to slam him down again. + +"Quit that!" he muttered hoarsely. "Can't you let a fellow alone." + +Arrived at last on the other side, he rose to his knees and tried to +peer above him to the place where the second lifeboat should be +swinging. A flash of lightning aided his vision. A groan escaped his +lips. + +"Gone!" he muttered. "Should have thought of that! But," he told +himself, "there's still the raft!" + +The raft, built of boards and gas-filled tubes, was lashed to the deck +forward. Thither he made his difficult way. + +To his great relief, he found the raft still safe. Since it was +thrashing about, he uncoiled a rope closely lashed to the side of a +cabin and with tremendous effort succeeded in making the raft snug. + +"There, now, you'll remain with us for a spell," he muttered. + +Clinging there for a moment, he appeared to debate some important +question. + +"Guess I ought to do it," he told himself at last. "And I'd better do +it now. You never can tell what will happen next and if worst comes to +worst it's our only chance." + +Fighting his way back to his cabin, he returned presently with the +post-shaped affair which he had lashed to the springs of his berth. + +This he now lashed to the stout slats of wood and crossbars of metal on +the raft. When he had finished it appeared to be part of the raft. + +"There, my sweet baby," he murmured, "sleep here, rocked on the cradle +of the deep, until your papa wants you. You're a beautiful and wonderful +child!" + +Then, weary, water-soaked, chilled to the bone, stupefied by the wild +beat of the storm, aching in every muscle but not downhearted, he fought +his way back to the radio cabin. + + * * * * * + +Nature has been kind to man. She has so made him that he is incapable of +feeling all the tragedy and sorrow of a terrible situation at the time +when it bursts upon him. Vincent Ardmore, as he clung to the wrecked +plane, with his companion gone from him forever, did not sense the full +horror of his position. He realized little more than the fact that he +was chilled to the bone, and that the wind and waves were beating upon +him unmercifully. + +Then, gradually there stole into his benumbed mind the thought that he +might improve his position. The platform above him still stood clear of +the waves. Could he but loosen the straps which bound him to the +fuselage, could he but climb to that platform, he would at least be free +for a time from the rude beating of the black waters which rolled over +him incessantly. + +With the numbed, trembling fingers of one hand he struggled with the +stubborn, water-soaked straps while with the other he clung to the rods +of the rigging. To loosen his grip for an instant, once the straps were +unfastened, meant almost certain death. + +After what seemed an eternity of time the last strap gave way and, with +a wild pounding of his heart, he gripped the rods and began to climb. + +As he tumbled upon the platform, new hope set the blood racing through +his veins. + +"There might yet be a chance," he murmured, almost joyfully; "the storm +is breaking." His eyes wandered to the fleeting clouds. "Dawn's coming, +too. I--I--why, I might send a message. The motor's gone dead, of +course, but there are still storage batteries. If only the insulations +are good. If water has not soaked in anywhere!" + +With trembling fingers he tested the batteries. A bright flash of fire +told him they were still alive. Then with infinite care he adjusted the +instruments. At last he tapped a wire and a grating rattle went forth. + +"She's still good," he exulted. + +Then slowly, distinctly, he talked into the transmitter, talked as he +might had he been surrounded by the cozy comforts of home. He gave his +name, the name of his aircraft; told of his perilous position; gave his +approximate location and asked for aid. Only once his voice broke and +fell to a whisper. That was when he tried to tell of the sad fate of +his companion. + +Having come to the end, he adjusted the receiver to his ears and sat +there listening. + +Suddenly his face grew tense with expectation. He was getting something, +an answer to his message. + +For a full moment he sat there tense, motionless. Then, suddenly, +without warning, a new catastrophe assailed him. A giant wave, leaping +high, came crashing down upon the wreckage of the plane. There followed +a snapping and crashing of braces. When the wave had passed, the +platform to which he clung floated upon the sea. His radiophone +equipment was water-soaked, submerged. His storage batteries had toppled +over to plunge into the sea. + +So there he clung, a single individual on a mass of wreckage, helpless +and well-nigh hopeless in the midst of a vast ocean whose waves were +even now subsiding after a terrific storm. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE WRECK OF THE _KITTLEWAKE_ + + +"I'm getting a message!" exclaimed Curlie excitedly. "Getting it +distinct and plain, and it's--it's from them." + +"Oh, is it?" the girl sprang from the seat. + +"From your brother. They've been wrecked. They're not on an island but +on the sea. Safe, though, only--" he paused to listen closely again--"I +can't just make out what he says about his companion." + +"Oh! Please, please let me listen!" Gladys Ardmore gripped his arm. + +Quickly Curlie snatched the receiver from his head and pressed it down +over her tangled mass of brown hair. + +She caught but a few words, then the voice broke suddenly off, but such +words as they were; such words of comfort. The voice of her only +brother had come stealing across the storm to her, assuring her that he +was still alive; that there was still a chance that he might be saved. +She pressed the receivers to her ears in the hopes of hearing more. + +In the meantime Curlie was answering the message. In quiet, reassuring +tones he gave their location and told of their purpose in those waters +and ended with the assurance that if it were humanly possible the rescue +should be accomplished. + +"And we will save them," he exclaimed. "At least we'll save your +brother." + +"You don't think--" Gladys did not finish. + +"I hardly know what to think about your brother's chum," Curlie said +thoughtfully. "But this we do know: Your brother is clinging to the +wreckage of a seaplane out there somewhere. And we will save him. See! +the storm is about at an end and morning is near!" He pointed to the +window, where the first faint glow of dawn was showing. + +For a moment all were silent. Then suddenly, without warning, there +came a grinding crash that sent a shudder through the _Kittlewake_ from +stem to stern. + +"What was that?" exclaimed Joe Marion, springing to his feet from the +floor where he had been thrown. + +"We struck something!" Curlie was out upon the deck like a shot. + +He all but collided with the skipper, who had deserted his wheel. + +"We 'it somethin'," shouted the skipper, "an' she's sinkin' by the +larboard bow. Gotta' git off 'er quick. Boats are gone! Everythin's +gone." + +"No," said Curlie calmly, "the raft forward is safely lashed on." + +The engineer appeared from below. The engine had already ceased its +throbbing. + +"She's fillin' fast," he commented in a slow drawl. + +"You two get the raft loose," said Curlie. "I'll get the girl." + +Dashing to his stateroom he seized two blankets and a large section of +oiled cloth. With these he dashed to the radio room. + +"Got to get out quick!" he exclaimed. + +Before she could realize what he was doing, he had seized the girl and +had wrapped her round and round with the blankets, then with the oiled +cloth. Joe had rushed out to help with the raft. Curlie carried the girl +outside and, when the raft with the others aboard was afloat, handed her +down to the skipper. + +"Try and keep her dry," he said calmly. "We'll all get soaked, but we +can stand it for a long time; a girl can't." + +"Now push off!" he commanded. "Get good and clear so that the wreck will +not draw you down." + +"You'll come with us," said the skipper sternly. Curlie had not intended +going with them. He had meant to remain behind and send a call for aid, +then to swim for the raft. But now, as he saw the water gaining on the +stricken craft, he realized how dangerous and futile it would be. He was +needed on the raft to help get her away. Having seen all this at a +flash he said: + +"All right; I'll go." Having dropped to the raft, and seized a short +paddle, he joined Joe and the engineer in forcing the unwieldy raft away +from the side of the doomed _Kittlewake_. + +They were none too soon, for scarcely two minutes could have elapsed +when with a rush that nearly engulfed them the boat keeled up on end and +sank from sight. + +"And now," said Joe addressing Curlie as he settled back to a seat on +one of the gas-filled tubes, "you can test out what you said once about +keeping your radiophone dry and tuned up under any and every +circumstance. Suppose you tune her up now and get off an S.O.S." + +There was a smile on the lips of the undaunted young operator as he said +with a drawl: + +"Give me time, Joe, old scout, give me time." + +The girl, staring out from her wrappings, appeared to fear that the two +boys had gone delirious over this new catastrophe. + +But only brave and hardy spirits can joke in the midst of disaster, and +as for Curlie, he really did have one more trick up his sleeve. + +As the old skipper sat staring away at the point where his craft had +disappeared beneath the dark waters, he murmured: + +"'Twasn't much we 'it; fragment from an iceberg 'er somethin', but 'twas +enough. An' a good little craft she was too." + +The storm had passed, but the waves were still rolling high. The raft +tilted to such an angle that now they were all in danger of being +pitched headforemost into the sea, and now in danger of falling backward +into the trough of the waves. + +Soaked to the skin, shivering, miserable, the boys and men clung to the +raft, while the girl bewailed the fact that she was not permitted to +suffer with them. Wrapped as she was, and carefully guarded from the +on-rush of the waves, she escaped all the miserable damp and chill of +it. + +"Shows you're a real sport," Curlie's lips, blue with cold, attempted a +smile, "but you've got to let us play the gentleman, even out here." + +When the waves had receded somewhat, Curlie began digging at one of the +tubes beneath his feet. Having at length unfastened it, he stood it on +end to unscrew some fastenings and lift off the top. + +"Canisters of water and some emergency rations!" exclaimed Joe, as he +peered inside. "Great stuff!" + +They had taken a swallow of water apiece and were preparing to munch +some hardtack and chocolate when Gladys exclaimed: + +"Look over there. What's that?" + +"There's nothing," said the engineer after studying the waves for a +moment. + +"Oh, yes there was!" the girl insisted emphatically. "Something showed +up on the crest of a wave. It's in the trough of the wave now. It'll +come up again." + +"Bit of wreckage from our yacht," suggested Joe. + +"Not much wreckage on 'er," said the skipper. "All washed off 'er long +before she sank." + +"What could it be then?" The girl was fairly holding her breath. "It +couldn't be--" + +"Don't get your hopes up too high," cautioned Curlie. "Of course +miracles do happen, but not so very often." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE MIRACLE + + +They were all straining their eyes when at last the thing appeared once +more on the crest of the wave. + +"Wreckage! A mass of it!" came from the skipper. + +"And--and there's a hand!" exclaimed Curlie. + +"The paddles, boys! The paddles! Every 'and of you, hup an' at it," +shouted the skipper. + +The wildest excitement prevailed, yet out of it all there came quick and +concerted action. Three paddles flashed as, straining every muscle, they +strove to bring the clumsy raft nearer the wreck. With tears in her +eyes, the girl begged and implored them to unwrap her and allow her to +have a hand in the struggle. + +A minute passed. No longer chilled but steaming from violent exertion, +they strained eager eyes to catch another glimpse of the wreck. + +"There--there it is!" exclaimed the girl, overcome with joy. "You're +gaining! You're gaining!" + +Five minutes passed. They gained half the distance. Eight minutes more; +the hand on the wreckage rose again. They were getting nearer. + +Suddenly the girl uttered a piercing cry of joy: + +"It is Vincent! It is! It is!" + +And she was right. A moment later, as they dragged the all but senseless +form from the seaplane, they recognized him at once as the millionaire's +son. + +He had drifted in the benumbing water so long that had they been delayed +for another hour they would have found nothing more than a corpse +awaiting them. + +As Curlie tore Vincent's sodden outer garments from him he saw the girl +carefully unrolling the blankets and oiled covering from about her. He +did not protest. To him the thought of seeing this girl half drowned and +chilled through by the spray which even now at times dashed over the +raft, was heartbreaking, but he knew it was necessary if the life of her +brother was to be saved. + +"Brave girl!" he murmured as he wrapped Vincent in the coverings and +passed him on to the skipper. + +"And now," he said, "the time has come to think of other things. I +believe the waves have sufficiently subsided to enable us to dare it." + +He fumbled once more at the raft, at last to bring up a long, +post-shaped affair. + +"More rations," murmured Joe, swallowing his last bite of hardtack; "a +regular commissary. But why get them out at this time?" + +"You wait," smiled Curlie. + +He was standing up. After telling Joe to steady him, he began tearing +away at the upper end of the mysterious package. In a moment, he took +out some limp, rubber affairs. + +"Toy balloons," jeered Joe. + +"Something like that," Curlie smiled. + +He next brought out a small brass retort and a tiny spirit lamp. + +"Lucky our matches are dry," he murmured, after unwrapping some oiled +cloth and lighting the spirit lamp with one of the matches inclosed. + +After firmly tying the end of a toy balloon over the mouth of the retort +he held the spirit lamp beneath the bowl of the retort. At once the +balloon began to expand. + +"Chemicals already in the retort," he explained. + +When the balloon was sufficiently inflated, he quickly tied it at the +mouth, then began inflating another. + +"The gas is very buoyant," he explained. "Hold that," he said as he +passed the string to the engineer. + +"There's enough," he said quietly when the third had been filled. + +He next drew forth some shiny fine copper wire coiled about some round, +insulated bars. + +When he had fastened the balloons to one end of the bars, he attached a +strong cord to the balloons, then allowed them to rise, at the same time +paying out the strands of copper wire. + +"Not very heavy wire for an aerial," he remarked, "but heavy enough. +We'll have a perpendicular aerial, which is better than horizontal, and +it'll hang pretty high. All that's in our favor." + +When the balloons had risen to a height which allowed the aerial, to +which was attached a heavier insulated wire, to float free, he gave the +cord to the engineer and began busying himself at putting together what +appeared to be a small windmill with curved, brass fans. + +"A windmill," he explained, "is the surest method of obtaining a little +power. Always a little breeze floating round. Enough to turn a wheel. +This one is connected direct with a small generator. Gives power enough +for a radiophone. Might use batteries but they might go dead on you. +Windmill and generator is as good after ten years as ten days. + +"There you are," he heaved a sigh of relief, as he struck the +transmitter which he had taken from his apparently inexhaustible "bag of +tricks." + +"Unless I miss my guess, we have a perfectly good radiophone outfit of +fair power. All the rest of it is stowed down there in the bottom. We +should be heard distinctly at from a hundred to five hundred miles. In +the future," he smiled, "every lifeboat and raft will be equipped with +one of these handy little radiophone outfits, which are really not very +expensive." + +Then, with all eyes fixed upon him, he began to converse with the unseen +and unknown, who, sailing somewhere on that vast sweep of water, were, +they hoped, to become their rescuers. + +In perfectly natural tones he spoke of their catastrophe and their +present predicament. He gave their approximate location and the names of +their party. This after an interval of two minutes, he repeated. + +Then, suddenly his lips parted in a smile. The others watched him with +strained attention. After a minute had elapsed, he said with apparent +satisfaction: + +"We'll await your arrival with unmixed pleasure. + +"The Steamship Torrence," he explained, "in crossing the Atlantic was +driven two hundred miles off her course. She is now only about +seventy-five miles from us. Being a fast boat, she should reach us in +three or four hours. + +"And now," he said with a smile, "since we have no checker-board on deck +and are entirely deprived of musical instruments of any kind, perhaps +you would like to hear me tell why I was sure the mysterious island +which has caused us so much grief, did not exist." + +"By the way," he said turning to Vincent, "do you chance to have the +original of that old map with you?" + +The boy pointed to his aviator's sodden leather coat. Although he had +gained much strength from the warm blankets, he had found himself +unable to speak of the tragedy which had befallen his companion on the +_Stormy Petrel_. Now as he saw Curlie draw the water-soaked map from the +pocket of his coat, a look of horror overspread his face and he muttered +hoarsely: + +"Throw it into the sea. It brings nothing but bad luck." + +"No, no," said Curlie, "we won't do that." + +"Then you must keep it," the other boy exclaimed. "I don't want ever to +see it again. Alfred made me a present of it just before we hopped off." + +"All right," said Curlie, "but you are parting with a thing of some +value." + +"Value!" exclaimed Vincent. Then he sat staring at Curlie in silence as +much as to say: "You too must have been bitten by the gold-bug." But +that Curlie had not been bitten by that dangerous and poisonous insect +will be proved, I think, by the pages which follow. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE STORY OF THE MAP + + +"You see," said Curlie, tapping the soggy bit of vellum which he held in +his hand, "the trouble with this map is, not that it is not genuine, but +that it's too old. This map," he paused for emphasis, "this map was made +in fourteen hundred and forty-six." + +Gladys Ardmore gasped. Her brother stared in astonishment. + +"It's a fact!" declared Curlie emphatically. + +"You see," he went on, "the day I was in the library with Miss Gladys I +saw an exact reproduction of this map in a large volume. At the same +time I read a description of it and a brief account of its history. It +seems it was lost sight of about a century ago. There were copies, but +the original was gone. + +"I concluded at once that the map had somehow come into the hands of +Alfred Brightwood. Since I was convinced that this was the truth, and +since I had read the writing about the gold discovered on the mysterious +island charted there, I decided that it would be wise to find out +whether or not it were possible that this strange story might be true. I +found my answer in a bound volume of Scottish Geographic Magazines in a +series of articles entitled 'The So-Called Mythical Islands of the +Atlantic.' + +"It seems that there is fairly good proof that a number of vessels +landed on the North American continent before Columbus did. Driven out +of their course or lured on by hopes of gold and adventure, these ships +from time to time discovered and rediscovered lands to the west of +Ireland. They thought of the land as islands and gave them names. The +island of Brazil was one of them. If you were to consult this map I have +here you would find the island of Brazil indicated by a circle which is +nearly as large as Ireland, yet if you were to cruise all over the +waters in the vicinity of this supposed island you would find only the +restless old ocean. + +"What's the answer then?" he smiled. "Just this: These ancient sea +rovers didn't have any accurate way of telling where they were at a +given time on the sea, so they had to guess at it. Carried on by winds +and currents, they often traveled much farther than they thought. They +landed on the continent of North America and thought it an island. When +they came back to Europe they tried to locate the land they had +discovered on a map, and missed it by only a thousand miles or so. + +"Our ancient friend who wrote of his experiences on the back of this map +had doubtless been carried to some point in Central or South America, +for there was, even in those days, plenty of gold to be found in those +regions." + +"So you see," he turned to Vincent with a smile, "you went five hundred +miles out to sea for the purpose of rediscovering America. Not much +chance of success. Anyway that's what I thought, and that is why I +dashed off on a wild race in the _Kittlewake_. And that's why we're +here." + +Silence followed the ending of Curlie's narrative. There seemed to be +nothing more to say. + +So they sat there staring at the sea for a long time. + +The silence was at last broken by the skipper's announcement: + +"Smoke on the larboard bow." + +It was true. Their relief was at hand. + +Almost immediately afterward Curlie received a second reassuring message +from the captain of the liner. A short time after that he had the +pleasure of escorting the dripping daughter of a millionaire up the +gangway. + +The next day as they were moving in toward the dock, Vincent Ardmore +approached Curlie. + +"My sister," there was a strange smile on his lips, "says you set out on +this trip for the purpose of having me arrested?" + +"I did." + +"Well--" the other boy choked up and could not continue. + +"The law, punishment, prisons and all that, as I understand it," said +Curlie thoughtfully, "have but one purpose: to teach people what other +folks' rights are and to encourage them in respecting them. It's my +business to see that there is fair play in the air." + +He paused and looked away at the sea. When he resumed there was a +suspicious huskiness in his voice. "Seems to me that as far as you are +concerned, nature has punished you about enough. You ought to know by +this time what interfering with the radio wave lengths belonging to sea +traffic might mean to shipwrecked men; and--well--Oh, what's the use!" +he broke off abruptly. "I'm a chicken-hearted fool. You're out on parole +and must report to your sister every week. She's--she's what I'd call a +brick!" + +Turning hastily he walked away. + +Almost before he knew it, he all but ran over Gladys Ardmore, coming to +meet him. + +"Oh, Mister--Mister--" she hesitated. + +"Just plain Curlie," he smiled. + +"You--you're coming to see me when you get home? Won't you?" + +Curlie thought a moment, then of a sudden the spacious walls of the +Ardmore mansion flashed into his mind. To go there as an officer of the +law was one thing; to go as a guest was quite another. + +"Why--why--" he drew back in confusion--"you'll have to excuse me +but--but--" + +"Oh! I know!" she exclaimed. "It's the house and everything. Tell you +what," she seized him by the arm; "there's a little old-fashioned +farmhouse down in one corner of our estate. It was there when we bought +it and has been kept just the same ever since. Even the furniture, red +plush chairs, kitchen stove and everything, are there. We'll go down +there and have a regular frolic sometime, popcorn, molasses candy, +checkers and everything. We've a wonderful cook who once lived on a +farm. We'll take her along as a chaperon. Now will you come? Will you?" +she urged eagerly. + +"Why--why--" + +"If you don't," she held up a warning finger, "I'll come up and visit +you in that secret wireless room of yours just as I once said I would." + +"In that case," said Curlie, "I suppose I'll have to surrender. And," he +added happily, "here we are, back to dear old North America, without any +gold but with a lot to be thankful for." + +The boat was bumping against the dock. Giving his arm a squeeze the girl +dashed away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +OFF ON ANOTHER WILD CHASE + + +A few nights later Curlie was back in the secret tower room. He was busy +as ever running down trouble. + +Joe Marion, entering the room noiselessly, dropped a letter into his +hand. The letter bore the insignia of the Ardmore family in one corner. + +"From Gladys Ardmore!" he told himself. + +But he was mistaken. It was a typewritten letter signed in a bold +business hand. It ran: + + "It is with great pleasure that I inclose a check for the sum + of the reward offered for the safe return of my son. + + "(Signed) J. Anson Ardmore." + +Curlie looked at the check, then uttered a low whistle. + +"Pay to the order of C. Carson, $10,000.00," he whispered. Then out +loud: + +"Joe, what would a fellow do with ten thousand dollars?" + +"Search me," Joe grinned back. "You got the fever or something?" he +asked a second later. + +Curlie showed him the check. + +"Why," said Joe, "you might buy a car." + +"Not much. The Humming Bird's quite good enough." + +"Tell you what," he said after a moment's thought, "just get that cashed +for me, will you? Then find out where our old skipper and the engineer +live and send them a thousand apiece. After that pocket a thousand for +yourself. Then--then--Oh, well, hire me a safety deposit box and buy me +a lot of Liberty bonds. Might want 'em some day. + +"And, say, that reminds me," he pointed to a square of vellum which hung +on a stretcher in the corner. "Take that over to the big library on the +North Side and tell 'em it's a present from us. It's that map Vincent +Ardmore gave me. It's worth a thousand dollars, but such maps are not +safe outside a library. Tell 'em to put it on ice," he laughed. + +Scarcely had Joe departed than a keen-eyed, gray-haired man entered the +tower room. He was Colonel Edward Marshall, Curlie's superior. + +"Curlie," he wrinkled his brow, as he took a seat, "there's somebody +raising hob with the radio service in Alaska." + +Curlie nodded his head. "I thought there might be. Sends on 1200, +doesn't he?" He was thinking of the hotel mystery and of the strange +girl who had whispered to him so often out of the night. + +"Yes, how did you know so much?" + +"Part of my job." + +"But you've been away." + +"Radiophone whispers travel far." + +"Well," said the colonel, settling down to business, "Alaska's in a bad +way. This fellow doesn't confine himself to 1200 up there. He uses all +sorts of wave lengths; seems to take pleasure in mussing up important +government communications and even more in breaking in on Munson." + +"Munson, the Arctic explorer." + +"Yes. He's making a try for the Pole. Much depends upon his keeping in +touch with the outside world and this crank or crook seems determined +that he shall not." + +"Why don't they catch him?" + +"Well, you see," he wrinkled his brow again, "the boys up there are +rather new at it. Don't understand the radio compass very well. The +fellow moves about and all that, so it's difficult. + +"I thought," he said slowly after a moment, "that you might like to +tackle the case." + +"Would I?" exclaimed Curlie, jumping to his feet. "Try me! Can I take +Joe along?" + +"As you like. Better get off pretty promptly; say day after to-morrow." + +"Never fear. We'll be off on time." + +The colonel bowed and left the room. + +"Alaska! Alaska!" Curlie murmured after a time, "Alaska and the Yukon +trail, for of course it will be that. It's too late for the boats. And +that reminds me, I made a promise to Gladys Ardmore. Only one night +left." + +A short time after that he put in an out-of-town telephone call. It was +a girlish voice that answered. + +Late the next night Curlie made his way home along the well-remembered +Forest Preserve road. He was riding in the Humming Bird. He had been to +Gladys Ardmore's party for two and a chaperon down in the little +farmhouse. The party had been a grand success and he was carrying away +pleasant memories which would serve him well on the long, long Yukon +trail and the weary and eventful miles which lay beyond its further +terminal. + +If you wish to learn of Curlie's adventures up there and of the secret +of the whisperer, you must read the next volume, entitled "On the Yukon +Trail." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CURLIE CARSON LISTENS IN*** + + +******* This file should be named 19351.txt or 19351.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/3/5/19351 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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