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white-space: pre-wrap } +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 35044 ***</div> +<div class="document" id="the-boys-of-the-wireless"> +<h1 class="document-title level-1 pfirst title">The Boys of the Wireless</h1> +</div> + +<hr class="vspace" style="height: 4em"/> + +<div class="container" id="pg-produced-by"> +<p class="noindent pfirst">Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at <a class="reference external" href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>.</p> + +<hr class="vspace" style="height: 1em"/> + +</div> +</div> +<div class="figure"> +<div class="align-center container image-wrapper"> +<img alt="images/illus-fpc.jpg" src="images/illus-fpc.jpg"/> +</div> +<div class="caption"> +TOM SPEEDILY GAVE THE CALL TO THE STATION AT THE DIXON PLACE.</div> +</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS</span></p> +<p class="center pnext">Or</p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="larger">A Stirring Rescue from the Deep</span></p> +<p class="center pnext">BY</p> +<p class="center pnext"><span class="larger">FRANK V. WEBSTER</span></p> +<div class="center line-block smaller"> +<div class="line"> +AUTHOR OF “AIRSHIP ANDY,” “COMRADES OF THE SADDLE,”</div> +<div class="line"> +“BEN HARDY’S FLYING MACHINE,” “BOB THE CASTAWAY,” ETC.</div> +</div> +<div class="center line-block"> +<div class="line"> +ILLUSTRATED</div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> +<span class="smaller">NEW YORK</span></div> +<div class="line"> +CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY</div> +<div class="line"> +<span class="smaller">PUBLISHERS</span></div> +</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst">BOOKS FOR BOYS</p> +<p class="center pnext">By FRANK V. WEBSTER</p> +<p class="center pnext">12mo. Cloth. Illustrated.</p> +<div class="center line-block smaller"> +<div class="line"> +ONLY A FARM BOY</div> +<div class="line"> +TOM, THE TELEPHONE BOY</div> +<div class="line"> +THE BOY FROM THE RANCH</div> +<div class="line"> +THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER</div> +<div class="line"> +BOB, THE CASTAWAY</div> +<div class="line"> +THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE</div> +<div class="line"> +THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS</div> +<div class="line"> +THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES</div> +<div class="line"> +THE TWO BOY GOLD MINERS</div> +<div class="line"> +JACK, THE RUNAWAY</div> +<div class="line"> +COMRADES OF THE SADDLE</div> +<div class="line"> +THE BOYS OF BELLWOOD SCHOOL</div> +<div class="line"> +THE HIGH SCHOOL RIVALS</div> +<div class="line"> +BOB CHESTER’S GRIT</div> +<div class="line"> +AIRSHIP ANDY</div> +<div class="line"> +DARRY, THE LIFE SAVER</div> +<div class="line"> +DICK, THE BANK BOY</div> +<div class="line"> +BEN HARDY’S FLYING MACHINE</div> +<div class="line"> +THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS</div> +<div class="line"> +HARRY WATSON’S HIGH SCHOOL DAYS</div> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst">Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York</p> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="center line-block"> +<div class="line"> +Copyright, 1912, by</div> +<div class="line"> +CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY</div> +<div class="line"> +THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS</div> +</div> +<div class="contents level-2 section" id="id1"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">Contents</h2> +<ul class="simple"> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-itom-barnes-wireless" id="id2">CHAPTER I—TOM BARNES’ WIRELESS</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-iistation-z" id="id3">CHAPTER II—STATION Z</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-iiispooks" id="id4">CHAPTER III—“SPOOKS!”</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-ivdonner" id="id5">CHAPTER IV—“DONNER”</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-va-boy-with-a-mystery" id="id6">CHAPTER V—A BOY WITH A MYSTERY</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-via-tip-via-wireless" id="id7">CHAPTER VI—A TIP VIA WIRELESS</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-viigrace-morgan" id="id8">CHAPTER VII—GRACE MORGAN</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-viiiquick-action" id="id9">CHAPTER VIII—QUICK ACTION</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-ixstrictly-business" id="id10">CHAPTER IX—STRICTLY BUSINESS</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xa-young-capitalist" id="id11">CHAPTER X—A YOUNG CAPITALIST</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xia-great-step-forward" id="id12">CHAPTER XI—A GREAT STEP FORWARD</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xiisun-moon-and-stars" id="id13">CHAPTER XII—“SUN, MOON AND STARS”</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xiiithe-black-caps" id="id14">CHAPTER XIII—THE BLACK CAPS</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xivturning-the-tables" id="id15">CHAPTER XIV—TURNING THE TABLES</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xvan-unexpected-rescuer" id="id16">CHAPTER XV—AN UNEXPECTED RESCUER</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xvikidnapped" id="id17">CHAPTER XVI—KIDNAPPED</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xviiup-to-mischief" id="id18">CHAPTER XVII—UP TO MISCHIEF</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xviiithe-toy-balloons" id="id19">CHAPTER XVIII—THE TOY BALLOONS</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xixa-startling-message" id="id20">CHAPTER XIX—A STARTLING MESSAGE</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxthe-launch" id="id21">CHAPTER XX—THE LAUNCH</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxibraving-the-storm" id="id22">CHAPTER XXI—BRAVING THE STORM</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxiithe-rescue" id="id23">CHAPTER XXII—THE RESCUE</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxiiievery-inch-a-man" id="id24">CHAPTER XXIII—“EVERY INCH A MAN”</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxivthe-kidnapped-boy" id="id25">CHAPTER XXIV—THE KIDNAPPED BOY</a></li> +<li class="level-2 toc-entry"><a class="reference internal pginternal" href="#chapter-xxvtom-on-the-trailconclusion" id="id26">CHAPTER XXV—TOM ON THE TRAIL—CONCLUSION</a></li> +</ul> +</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">THE BOYS OF THE WIRELESS</span></p> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-itom-barnes-wireless"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id2">CHAPTER I—TOM BARNES’ WIRELESS</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“What’s that new-fangled thing on the blasted +oak, Tom?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That, Ben, is a wireless.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, you don’t say so!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Or, rather the start of one.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say, you aren’t original or ambitious or anything +like that, are you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">The speaker, Ben Dixon, bestowed a look of +admiration and interest on the chum he liked best +of all in the world, Tom Barnes.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was reckoned a genius in the little community +in which he lived. He had the record of +“always being up to something.” In the present +instance he had been up a tree, it seemed. From +“the new-fangled thing” Ben had discovered in +passing the familiar landmark, the blasted oak, +wires and rods ran up to quite a height, showing +that some one had done some climbing.</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben became instantly absorbed in an inspection +of the contrivance before him. He himself had +some mechanical talent. His father had been an +inventor in a small way, and anything in which +Tom had a part always attracted him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tell me about it. What’s that thing up +there?” asked Ben, pointing directly at some +metal rods attached to the broken-off top of the +tree.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Those are antennae.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Looks like an—twenty!” chuckled Ben over +his own joke. “There’s a whole network of +them, isn’t there?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“They run down to a relay, Ben, catching the +electric waves striking the decoherer, which taps +the coherer and disarranges a lot of brass filings +by mechanical vibration. That’s the whole essence +of the wireless—otherwise it is no different +from common telegraphy—a group of parts each +for individual service in transmitting or receiving +the electric waves.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Thank you!” observed Ben drily. “How delightfully +plain that all is! You rattle those scientific +terms off good and spry, though.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“So will you, as soon as you do what I’ve been +doing,” asserted Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“And what’s that?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Getting a glance at the real wireless outfit Mr. +Edson is operating down at Sandy Point.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I heard of that,” nodded Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He’s a fine man,” said Tom enthusiastically. +“He’s taken all kinds of trouble to post me and +explain things I wanted to know. This little +side show of mine is just an experiment on a +small scale. I don’t expect any grand results. It +will work out the principle, though, and when I +get to taking messages——”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What! you don’t mean to say you can do +that?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Just that, Ben,” declared Tom confidently.</p> +<p class="pnext">“From where?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, mostly from Mr. Edson’s station at +Sandy Point, and maybe some stray ones that may +slip past him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say!” cried Ben, on fire at once with emulation +and optimism, “what’s the matter with me +starting a station, too, down at my house? Then +we could have all kinds of fun over our line.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It isn’t much work nor expense,” said Tom. +“You can get an outfit cheap for a home-made +apparatus—you need some coarse and fine wire +for the main coil, a glass tube, a bell, sounder and +a buzzer, some electromagnets——”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I see,” interrupted Ben with a mock groan, +“just a few things picked up anywhere. Oh, +yes!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You won’t be discouraged once you get interested, +Ben,” assured Tom. “We’ll talk about +your starting a station later. Just now you can +help me quite a bit if you want to.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Sure!” returned the enterprising Ben with +vim.</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right; I want to string a coil of new wire +I got yesterday,” explained Tom, going around +to the other side of the tree. “Why, it’s gone!” +he cried.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s gone?” queried Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The wire. Now, isn’t that a shame!” cried +Tom indignantly, fussing around among the grass +and bushes. “That coil couldn’t have walked +away. Some one must have stolen it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Don’t be too hasty, Tom. Some one passing +by may have picked it up. You know the fellows +are playing ball over in the meadow just beyond +here. Some of them may have cut across and +stumbled over your wire.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Couldn’t they see that I was putting up a +station here?” demanded Tom with asperity.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Station?” repeated Ben with a jolly laugh. +“See here, old fellow, you forget that we scientific +numbskulls wouldn’t know your contrivance +here from a clothes dryer.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, come on, anyway. I’ve got to find that +wire,” said Tom with determination.</p> +<p class="pnext">In the distance they could hear the shouts of +boys at play, and passing through some brushwood they +came to the edge of the open meadow +lining the river.</p> +<p class="pnext">Half a dozen boys were engaged in various +pastimes. Two of them playing at catch greeted +Tom with enthusiasm.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was no boy at Rockley Cove more popular +than Tom Barnes. His father had farmed +it, as the saying goes, at the edge of the little +village for over a quarter of a century. While +Mr. Barnes was not exactly a wealthy man he +made a good living, and Tom dressed pretty well, +and was kept at school right along. Now it was +vacation time, and outside of a few chores about +the house morning and evening Tom’s time was +his own.</p> +<p class="pnext">The result was that usually Tom had abundant +leisure for sports. The welcome with which his +advent was hailed therefore, was quite natural.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I say, Tom,” suddenly spoke Ben, seizing the +arm of his companion in some excitement, “there’s +Mart Walters.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ah, he’s here, is he?” exclaimed Tom, and +started rapidly across the meadow to where a +crowd of boys were grouped about a diving plank +running out over the stream. “I’m bothered +about that missing coil, but I guess I can take time +to attend to Walters.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The boy he alluded to was talking to several +companions as Tom and Ben came up. His back +was to the newcomers and he did not see them +approach. Mart Walters was a fop and a braggart. +Tom noticed that he was arrayed in his +best, and his first overheard words announced +that he was bragging as usual.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mart was explaining to a credulous audience +some of the wonderful feats in diving and swimming +he had engaged in during a recent stay in +Boston. With a good deal of boastful pride he +alluded to a friend, Bert Aldrich, whose father +was a part owner of a big city natatorium. Tom +interrupted his bombast unceremoniously by suddenly +appearing directly in front of the boaster.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hello, Mart Walters,” he hailed in a sort +of aggressive way.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hello yourself,” retorted Mart, with a slight +uneasiness of manner.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ve been looking for you,” said Tom bluntly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Have?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, ever since I heard some criticisms of +yours yesterday on my bungling swimming.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, I didn’t say much,” declared Mart evasively.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You said enough to make the crowd believe +you could beat me all hollow at diving.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well,” flustered Mart desperately, “I can.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Want to prove that?” challenged Tom sharply.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Some time.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why not now? We’re all here and the water +is fine. We’ll make it a dash for the half-mile +fence and return, under water test, somersaults +and diving.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Mart had begun to retreat. He flushed and +stammered. Finally he blurted out:</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m due now at Morgan’s with a message +from my folks.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You haven’t seemed in a hurry,” suggested +Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, I am now.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, might muss your collar if you got wet!” +sneered a fellow in the crowd.</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right,” said Tom, “when will you be +back?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can’t say,” declared Mart. “You see, I don’t +know how long I may be.”</p> +<p class="pnext">He started off, flushed and sheep-faced under +the critical gaze of the crowd. As he did so Tom +noticed that he had something in his hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Here!” he cried, “where did you get that?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom had discovered his missing coil of wire. +His hand seized it. Mart’s did not let go. The +latter gave a jerk, Tom a twist.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s mine,” Tom said simply. “You took +it from where I was stringing up my wireless.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I found it,” shouted Mart, thoroughly infuriated +in being crossed in any of his plans. “It +was kicking around loose. I’ll have it too—take +that!”</p> +<p class="pnext">He came at Tom so suddenly that the latter, +unprepared for the attack, went swinging to the +ground under a dizzying blow.</p> +<p class="pnext">It looked as if Mart was about to follow up +the assault with a kick. Tom offset that peril with +a dextrous maneuvre.</p> +<p class="pnext">Seated flat, he spun about like a top. His feet +met the ankles of the onrushing Mart.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mart stumbled, tripped and slipped. He tried +to catch himself, lost his balance, fell backward, +and the next instant went headlong into the water +with a resounding splash.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-iistation-z"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id3">CHAPTER II—STATION Z</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">A yell of derisive delight went up from the +smaller youths of the crowd as Mart Walters went +toppling into the water. Mart did not have a +real friend in Rockley Cove, and the little fellows +Welcomed an opportunity for showing their dislike.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom, however, promptly on his feet was making +for the spot where Mart was puffing and +splashing about, when two of his friends in bathing +attire anticipated his helpful action, reached +Mart, and led him, blinded and dripping, onto +dry land.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mart was a sight. All the starch was taken +out of him, and out of his clothes. He did not +linger to renew the conflict. He only shook his +fist at Tom with the half Whimpered words:</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll fix you, Tom Barnes, see if I don’t! This +will be a sorry day for you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Who started it?” demanded Tom bluntly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll get even with you for this treatment,” +threatened Mart direfully, sneaking off.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’ve made an enemy for life of that fellow, +Tom,” declared Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, he never was very friendly towards me,” +responded Tom. “Where’s the wire? I’ve got +it,” and he picked it up from the ground where +it had dropped. “I’m sorry this thing occurred, +but he brought it on himself. Come on, Ben.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’re going to stay and have some fun, aren’t +you, Tom?” inquired one of the swimmers.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can’t, boys—that is, just now. I’ve got +something to attend to. See you again.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom and Ben had not proceeded fifty feet, +however, when a hurried call halted them. Tom’s +younger brother came running towards them.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, Tom!” he hailed breathlessly, “I’ve run +all the way from the house. I’ve got a message +for you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What is it, Ted?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mr. Edson was passing the house and told me +to find you and ask you to come down to the tower +as soon as you could.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right, Ted,” replied Tom. “I wonder +what’s up?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why?” questioned Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I saw Mr. Edson early this morning down at +the Point, and thought I’d got him to talk himself +out for a week to come asking him so many questions +about the wireless.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Are you going to drop rigging out your plant +at the old oak till you see him?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’ll have to. It may be something important +Mr. Edson wants to see me about. You come +too, Ben.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Had I better?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You want to, don’t you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, I guess!” replied Ben with undisguised +fervor. “I’ve envied the way he’s posting you in +this wireless ever since I first saw his outfit.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The boys pursued their way to Sandy Point, +passing the old blasted oak. Here Tom took +pains to stow the coil of wire safely in a tree. +Resuming their walk they neared Sandy Point +twenty minutes later.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Point was a high but level stretch of shore +with one or two small houses in its vicinity. It +was really a part of Rockley Cove, but the center +of the village was half a mile inland.</p> +<p class="pnext">A high metal framework designated the Point, +and could be seen from quite a distance. This, +however, was no recent construction nor a beacon +point, nor originally erected for its present use as +a wireless station.</p> +<p class="pnext">It had served as a windmill for a farmer who +once operated an eighty-acre tract of land. One +night his house and barns burned down. For +years the spot was abandoned. Recently, however, +the Mr. Edson Tom had alluded to had +come to Rockley Cove and established “Station Z” +at the old windmill.</p> +<p class="pnext">He had built a room or tower as he called it +midway up the windmill structure. This was +reached through a trap door by a fixed iron ladder. +The height and open construction of the +windmill enabled the setting of upper wireless +paraphernalia in a fine way, and the whole layout +was found especially serviceable in carrying out +Mr. Edson’s ideas.</p> +<p class="pnext">The operator was at the window of the little +operating room he had built, and waved a cheery +welcome to his two young friends. Tom and Ben +were up the ladder speedily and through the trap +door.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Did you send for me, Mr. Edson?” inquired +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, Tom,” replied the operator, “and I’m +glad you came so promptly. I’ve got to leave +Rockley Cove on short notice.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, Mr. Edson, I am very sorry for that!” +declared Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I regret it too, especially so far as you are +concerned,” admitted Mr. Edson.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I was getting on finely,” said Tom in a disappointed +tone.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No reason why you shouldn’t continue,” declared +the operator encouragingly. “You have +been strictly business all along, Tom. I want to +commend you for it, and I have sent for you to +make you a business proposition.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“A proposition?” repeated Tom wonderingly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes. You have got so that there is very +little about the outfit here that you do not understand. +The transmitting and receiving end of it +is old history to you. In fact I am going to leave +you here in entire charge of the station.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, Mr. Edson!” exclaimed Tom, “I am +afraid you rate me too highly.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not at all. You have got sense, patience, +and you want to learn. As you know, my starting +the station here was a private enterprise, but +it was no idle fad. I expected to work something +practicable and profitable out of it. You +can carry on the work.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why are you giving it up, sir, if I may ask?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I received a letter only an hour since, with an +unexpected offer of a very fine position with one +of the operating wireless companies in Canada. +They expect me at a conference in New York +City Friday, and I do not doubt that I shall close +an engagement with them. As I have told you, +I have very little capital. In fact, about all my +surplus has been invested in the station here.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben was looking around the place with his usual +devouring glance. Tom felt that some important +disclosure was about to be made and was +duly impressed.</p> +<p class="pnext">“There is a good chance for a live young fellow +in a business that can send a message hundreds +of miles in a few seconds,” continued Mr. Edson. +“The business is now only in its infancy, and +those who get in first have the best chance. The +only hope here of the international circuit is to +make a killing.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What do you mean by a killing, Mr. Edson?” +inquired the big-eyed, interested Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Catching a stray message and making a home +shot with it. The fellow who saved an ocean +liner last week by sending help quick, just when +needed, got more pay in one hour than many people +earn in a lifetime. Now then, Tom, as to my +proposition.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, sir,” nodded Tom, eagerly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I want you to buy me out.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“To buy you out?” repeated Tom slowly and +in a puzzled way.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You mean with money?” put in the ever-attentive +Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s got to be money, I am obliged to say,” +replied Mr. Edson. “I shall need all the ready +cash I can get hold of in taking my new position, +for I have a lot of debts to clean up. Between you +and me, Tom, I can sell the outfit here to certain +people, but it would throw you out. Of course, +I don’t expect you, a boy to have any great amount +of money to invest, but I had an idea that some +of your relatives or friends might help you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was silent, deeply thoughtful for a minute +or two. His eyes wandered wistfully over the +apparatus that so fascinated him. Then, very +timorously, he asked:</p> +<p class="pnext">“How much would it take, Mr. Edson?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“One hundred dollars to you, Tom,” said Mr. +Edson.</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben squirmed. Tom’s voice was quite tremulous +as he inquired:</p> +<p class="pnext">“How soon would you have to have the +money?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“By next Tuesday.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Will you give me till then to—to try?” asked +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Surely. I hope you can make it, Tom. I like +you very much. You are the right sort, and I +think you should be encouraged in your interest +in the wireless. I’ll show you just what the equipment +here is.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben voted the hour that followed the most +interesting of his life. For the first time in his +career he began to get a faint conception of spark +lengths, spark voltage, condensers, circuits, vibrators, +grounds, concentric radiations, wire cores +and armatures. He had been dabbling for over +a week with both Morse and the Continental alphabets, +and when Tom mentioned the possibility +of establishing a sub-station at the Dixon home instead +of at the old blasted oak, Mr. Edson was +quite encouraging, and offered to contribute some +of the equipment necessary to carry out the idea.</p> +<p class="pnext">The expert operator engrossed the attention of +the boys. It was a ramble in a field of rare delight +as they passed from one part of the wireless +mechanism to another.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Now then, sit down, boys, for a few minutes,” +said Mr. Edson at length. “I don’t want you to +buy a pig in a poke. There are a couple of attachments +that go with the station, and you should +know about them.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Attachments?” repeated Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What are they, Mr. Edson?” inquired Tom +with curiosity.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Spooks,” was the ominous reply.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-iiispooks"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id4">CHAPTER III—“SPOOKS!”</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“Spooks?” repeated Tom, with a stare of +wonder.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Spooks,” echoed Ben, edging a trifle away +from the open trap door.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Call it that,” said Mr. Edson, with a quiet +smile. “Perhaps I had better say—mysterious +happenings.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What may they be, Mr. Edson?” inquired +Ben, always interested in any sensational disclosures.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, first—let me see,” and the speaker +reached over for a slip of documents held with +others in a paper clip on the table; “yes, here it +is—‘Donner.’”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Who’s he?” inquired Tom, puzzled.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say rather what is he?” corrected Mr. Edson. +“Frankly, I don’t know.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s a name,” observed Ben; “a man’s name, +isn’t it?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I don’t know that,” responded Mr. Edson.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Neither do the other fellows on the circuit. Perhaps +I’d better explain, though, so when this +Donner comes along you will be prepared for +him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, you have excited our curiosity and we’ll +be on the lookout,” said Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, for nearly three weeks, at odd and unexpected +times, with no sense or reason to it, no +call or ‘sine,’ abruptly and mysteriously zip! the +wires have gone, and in floats a jumbled, erratic +message.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“As how?” propounded Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“‘Donner.’ That always, first. It may be an +explanation, it may be a name, it may mean nothing, +but all the same splutter—splutter! on she +comes. At first it was spelled out slowly, lamely, +sometimes wrong, and then corrected as if an +amateur beginner was at the other end of the +line.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And that was all—‘Donner’” questioned +Ben, aggravatingly consumed with curiosity.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not after a few days. Then ‘Donner’ began +to add something of a message. That, too, was a +jumble, wrong dots and dashes and all that. Finally, +though, this queer crank of a sender began to +say something about a boy.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“A boy?” murmured the engrossed Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It looked as if he was trying to describe some +one. However, as I say, his sending was so +faulty that not much could be made out of it. It +got clearer, but no more coherent and enlightening. +I tried to trace the sender. So did others +on the circuit. I got in touch with Seagrove.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What did they say? Mr. Edson?” asked +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“They confessed themselves fully as much puzzled +as I was. The last three or four days ‘Donner’ +has gotten into action trying to tell something +about money. First it was a hundred dollars, +then two hundred, then five, and about an +hour since the same old string of jangled talk +came in over the receiver: ‘Donner boy—a thousand +dollars.’”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How strange,” commented Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, you’ll get some of it,” declared Mr. Edson. +“Early in the morning about daylight, always +at noon, sometimes just about dusk, the +message comes through the air.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How do you explain it?” submitted Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, I have to think it is some person who +has rigged up an old station somewhere in range, +and is trying to tell something he is too ignorant +to express clearly. Pay no attention to it as a +serious circumstance. It is only one of the freaks +of the wireless experience.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s one of the spooks you told about?” +inquired Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” nodded Mr. Edson.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Any more?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Something more tangible this time,” observed +Mr. Edson. “For about a week some one has +invaded my den here nights regularly.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Maybe this same mysterious ‘Donner’” suggested +Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hardly. You see, I am pretty regular in my +hours here. I have come on at about eight in the +morning and leave at six in the evening always.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And the second spook you speak about?” +interrogated Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Puts in an appearance after my departure in +the night time. Here’s the gist of it: Every +morning when I come down here, the ground under +the windmill for a space of about fifty feet +is swept as clean as a ballroom floor.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, I’ve noticed that,” observed Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I leave the den up here in some slight disorder +evenings, preferring to put it in shape in +the morning. Well,” declared Mr. Edson, “I find +it all cleaned up for me.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You don’t say so!” ejaculated Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Nothing is touched about the apparatus, my +papers are not disturbed. One night I carelessly +forgot my pocketbook. I found it placed carefully +on the paper tab with the contents intact.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, that’s a helpful, honest, useful kind of a +spook, isn’t it, now?” cried Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think this harmless intruder sleeps on the +floor here nights,” said Mr. Edson. “Anyhow, +I’ve apprised you of the mysteries as well as the +excellencies of Station Z. I must be going, +Barnes,” added Mr. Edson, consulting his watch +and arising and taking up his satchel from a corner +of the room. “Think over my proposition.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I certainly shall,” declared Tom, quickly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s a dandy chance,” remarked Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Use your best intelligence and judgment in +running the business here until I come back,” +added Mr. Edson. “You can come down to the +house with me if you like and get some stuff that +will help you rig up your home-made wireless.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right,” assented Tom, “I’d like to do +that.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The professional operator followed his young +guests down the ladder, locking the trap door +padlock and tendering the key to Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’re in charge now,” he said in a pleasant +way.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom’s finger tips tingled with pleasure at the +possession of the key, and Ben’s eyes brightened +with glowing anticipations.</p> +<p class="pnext">The boys waited outside on a bench on the porch +of Mr. Edson’s boarding house when they reached +that place. He went up to his room and soon +returned with an oblong box.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’ll find the stuff in there I told you about,” +he explained.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Many thanks,” said Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m in that, too!” echoed Ben. “I only +hope we can really rig up a plant at my house like +you talk about,” he added eagerly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That will be easy,” advised Mr. Edson. +“And now good-by, my young friends, and good +luck.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Mr. Edson shook hands in a friendly way with +Tom and Ben. The boys started down the village +street in the direction of the Barnes home.</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben walked as if he were treading on air. His +comrade, carrying the box, was thoughtfully going +over the great fund of information he had obtained +in the preceding two hours.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I say!” he spoke suddenly, coming to a halt.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s up?” challenged Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I was thinking it would be handier to leave +this box at the station.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m sure it would. You see, it’s nearer our +place,” counselled Ben eagerly, glad of any excuse +that would take them back to the fascinating +influence of Station Z.</p> +<p class="pnext">They faced about and proceeded back over the +course they had come.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Look here, Tom,” broke in Ben on the +thoughts of his comrade, “are you going to try +and raise that hundred dollars?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, if possible.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Wish I could help you. Going to ask your +father?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“No,” replied Tom. “In the first place, I +don’t think he would let me have it. You know +he calls my craze after wireless, as he terms it, +all a fad,—says I’d better think of getting through +school before I take up outside things.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, I know.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Then again,” continued Tom, “I have a sort +of pride of starting in business life on my own +resources.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“But you’ve got to have some money help.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ve thought of that, and I’ll tell you what I’ll +do. You remember my Aunt Samantha?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Down at Westport?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Exactly. I have always been a favorite of +hers. Many a time she has hinted at all the +money she is going to leave me in her will some +day. Many a time, too, after a visit to our house, +she has reminded me that any time I need help to +write her.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And you’re going to?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” replied Tom, “just as soon as I get +home this evening. I’m going to offer her my +note, and I mean to pay it, too.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say, Tom,” cried his loyal companion, “I’ll +endorse for you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom had to laugh outright at the proposal.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then, seeing that he had hurt Ben’s feelings, he +said kindly:</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s all right, Ben; you mean well, but if +Aunt Samantha won’t let me have the money +alone, she won’t give it to the two of us.”</p> +<p class="pnext">It had been growing dusk as the chums proceeded +on their way. They passed through the +village and beyond it, and finally approached the +wireless station. Tom was fumbling in his pocket +for the key to the trap door when Ben suddenly +caught his arm.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tom, hold on!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s the matter?” questioned Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Look yonder!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben pointed directly at the old windmill framework. +Both stared intently.</p> +<p class="pnext">Climbing up one of the outer girders was a +boy. As he reached the level of the window of the +little aerial room aloft, he swung towards it, in +some deft way lifted or pried up the sash, and +disappeared suddenly from view.</p> +<div class="figure"> +<div class="align-center container image-wrapper"> +<img alt="images/illus-024.jpg" src="images/illus-024.jpg"/> +</div> +<div class="caption"> +BEN POINTED DIRECTLY AT THE OLD WINDMILL FRAMEWORK.</div> +</div> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-ivdonner"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id5">CHAPTER IV—“DONNER”</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“Well!” ejaculated Tom in startled amazement.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Don’t you see?” gasped Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“One of the spooks Mr. Edson spoke about!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s so, it must be,” assented Tom. “The +nightly intruder, as sure as fate!”</p> +<p class="pnext">The window was lowered from the inside. In +a minute or two a faint light showed. Tom +started forward, joined by Ben, who was in a +quiver of excitement and suspense.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What are you going to do, Tom?” he inquired.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Find out who this mysterious trespasser is. +Don’t make any noise, Ben, but keep close to me.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom gave the box into the possession of his +companion, and started up the ladder. Very cautiously +he inserted the key into the padlock. +He managed to turn it and remove the padlock +without making any alarming sound. Then very +slowly Tom pushed up the trap door.</p> +<p class="pnext">A glance across to one corner of the room interested +him. Upon the floor lay the intruder. He +had upset a chair, and he was using its slanting +back as a pillow. On another chair he had set a +lighted piece of candle. In a posture of ease +and comfort he lay reading a well-thumbed book, +while gnawing away at a great hunk of dry bread. +His face was turned away from the trap door. +He was so engrossed in eating and reading, that, +unobserved, Tom was able to get up into the +room and Ben was half way through the trap +door before the trespasser was aware of it.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, we’ve caught you right in the act, have +we?” spoke Tom suddenly.</p> +<p class="pnext">With a slight cry and starting up into a sitting +posture, the intruder stared hard at his unexpected +visitors. He seemed to scan their faces +searchingly. His own, at first startled, broke into +a pleasant smile.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s just what you’ve done,” he admitted.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Pretty cool about it,” observed Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not so cool as I’ve been, sleeping in the damp +grass a few foggy mornings lately. What are you +going to do with me, fellows?”</p> +<p class="pnext">The speaker rose to his feet with something +of an effort. Then Tom noticed that he limped on +one foot. The lad was thin and pale, too. He +righted the upset chair and sat down on it. Ben +placed the box on a table and leaned against it, +regarding the stranger with curiosity. Tom sank +into another chair.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’re not judges or officers,” he said, “but +we are in charge here now.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Then I’d better get out, I suppose,” said the +boy.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What did you come in for in the first place? +That’s what we’re interested in knowing,” remarked +Ben pointedly.</p> +<p class="pnext">The stranger shrugged his shoulders in a way +that was quite pathetic.</p> +<p class="pnext">“See here,” he said soberly, “if you had a +foot pretty nigh cut off by a scythe right on top +of a hard spell of the typhoid fever, and no +place to eat or sleep, you’d burrow in most anywhere +lying around loose, wouldn’t you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Does that describe your case?” questioned +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Just exactly,” responded the lad, a quick dry +click in his throat. “I’m not able to do my old +work, and you might call me a roving convalescent, +see?” and he chuckled. “I manage to pick +up enough food. I spotted this place, tried to +keep out of anybody’s way, and tidied it up to +pay for wearing out the floor boards. Then, too, +I frightened off two tramps one night, who would +have ransacked everything in sight if I hadn’t +made them believe I was a private watchman.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“But where do you live?” asked Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Here, if you’ll let me,” was the prompt reply.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’ll do better than that,” said Tom, who +had been studying the boy’s face and manner +closely, and each succeeding moment was attracted +more and more by his honest eyes and frank ways.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Will you?” questioned the lad wonderingly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” assured Tom. “To be plain about it, +you are homeless and friendless.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“To be plain about it, you’ve just hit the nail +on the head.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right; when we leave here you come +along.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Where to?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“My home. You shall have a good supper, and +I’m sure my mother will let me rig up a comfortable +bed for you in the garret.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mattress?” queried the stranger with a grin.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Of course.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Pillow?” he asked additionally</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The boy chuckled.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say,” he spoke in a half sad, half gloating +way, “it’s so long since I saw such things I can +hardly realize it. I suppose you want to know +my name?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’d like to,” said Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Then call me Ashley, Harry Ashley. If anybody +asks what I am, just tell them a poor lonely +fellow in hard luck, but mending as fast as he +can, and not afraid to tackle any job that means +pay for work.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That rings true,” said Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom got busy shoving the box he had brought +from the village under the table. He had lighted +a lamp. About to extinguish it, he glanced around +the room to see that everything was in shape for +the night.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Come on, Ben, you too,” directed Tom. +“Blow out your candle, and we’ll make a start.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The boy calling himself Harry Ashley limped +over towards the chair holding the candle. At +that moment there was an interruption. With a +sharp tang the receiver began to pop out dots, +dashes and echoing clicks.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Some one on the line!” pronounced Ben +quickly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” nodded Tom, hastening over to the instrument. +“Hello!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom gave a vivid start. For over a month he +had been acquiring the Morse code alphabet. +Novice as he was, he was able to translate the +rapid furious dots and dashes that sounded in the +earpiece of the apparatus.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The spooks!” Ben gasped.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” assented Tom quite stirred up himself—“‘Donner!’”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s that?” exclaimed Harry Ashley. He +turned as white as a sheet, and began trembling +all over, and stood staring askance at Tom, the +instrument and Ben.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-va-boy-with-a-mystery"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id6">CHAPTER V—A BOY WITH A MYSTERY</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Tom did not take much notice of the strange +conduct of the refugee. He was intent on learning +what further the receiver would immediately +tap out. Ben noted particularly the excitement +of their new companion. His attention, too, was +instantly diverted through his eagerness to catch +the message coming all strange and jumbled by +wireless.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Just as Mr. Edson told us——” he began.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ah!” commented Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">The big distended eyes of Ben Dixon devoured +the instrument with its shining coils and connections. +He stood now rooted like a statue.</p> +<p class="pnext">Finally the message ended. A queer smile +crossed Tom’s face.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well,” he observed, “Mr. Edson certainly +described it perfectly.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And two thousand dollars this time.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What else was the fellow trying to send?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It was gibberish to me. Oh, we’ll have to +pass it up, Ben, just as Mr. Edson said.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” assented Ben, “it’s some novice or +joker or crank experimenting, or trying to be +smart. What’s the matter?” challenged Ben, +turning now upon the boy calling himself Harry +Ashley, hoping for some explanation of his queer +startled actions of a few minutes previous.</p> +<p class="pnext">But whatever the refugee had on his mind +he evidently was not disposed to impart it to his +questioner.</p> +<p class="pnext">Harry Ashley had somewhat recovered his +composure. He still looked disturbed, but he said +with assumed carelessness:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, nothing. I get a pretty sharp twinge +in my lame foot every once in a while.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I see,” observed Ben, drily and unbelievingly.</p> +<p class="pnext">The boys were soon on the ground and on +their way towards the village. Tom kept up a +casual conversation. He did not ask the strange +waif who had drifted into their keeping any +leading questions, however. Much as he was +interested in knowing more about Harry Ashley, +there was something in the lad’s manner that +repelled curiosity. Furthermore, Tom did not +wish to embarrass a comrade he had invited to +become his guest.</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben was quite silent. He stole many a furtive +look at Harry as they proceeded on their way. +He was half satisfied with the lame explanation +of his actions the boy had made in the wireless +tower. He forged ahead a few yards with Tom +as they came to the road leading south towards +his home.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I say, Tom,” he remarked in a low tone, +“there’s some mystery about that fellow.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, if that’s true,” returned Tom, “let +the future work it out. He strikes me as a poor +unfortunate who needs some help, and I’m going +to give it to him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s natural,” retorted Ben, “you’re always +helping somebody.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom rejoined Harry. The latter became more +chatty now. He did not say much about himself, +but from what he did impart Tom surmised that +he was practically a tramp, picking up a living +at odd jobs.</p> +<p class="pnext">“See here,” said Harry, as Tom indicated the +cheery lights of the old Barnes homestead, “it +won’t put you in bad with your folks, will it?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What do you mean?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Lugging in a ragged stranger like me.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“My mother will answer that,” replied Tom +with a smile, leading the way around the house.</p> +<p class="pnext">His companion halted outside the kitchen door, +as Tom sang out to a portly bustling lady directing +the operations of a hired girl.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mother, I’ve brought some company home +to supper.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The kindly glance of the hospitable Mrs. +Barnes swept the forlorn refugee, clearly reviewed +in the light streaming out across the door-step.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Come right in,” she said, with a genial smile +of welcome.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s Harry Ashley,” explained Tom. “He +may stay all night.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You arrange where he shall sleep, then, Tom. +Go into the dining room, boys. Father seems +to be delayed in town, and we needn’t wait for +him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom did not regret the kindness he was showing +to his new friend. When he went to bed that +night he felt that he had never passed a more +satisfactory evening. He had never seen a boy +enjoy a meal as Harry Ashley did that supper. +It was enough to warm the heart of a stone, he +decided, to witness the happy comfort of Harry, +as in the cozy sitting room he showed the stranger +his books, and some of the electrical toys he had +made for his young brother Ted.</p> +<p class="pnext">Harry looked around the airy attic with a +smile of pleasure as he noted a mattress filled +with clean straw in one corner, a white coverlid +and a pillow.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Makes you think of home, doesn’t it?” +questioned Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, it doesn’t,” sharply, almost rudely, +snapped out Harry, and then, a slight moisture +visible in his eyes, he added apologetically, +“you’ve touched a sore spot, Barnes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I won’t again,” promised Tom gently.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s all right,” replied Harry in his usual +offhand way. “When you know me better I’ll +explain some things. I’ll dream like a prince +in a palace to-night.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom went to his own room. His head was +pretty full with all the varied and exciting events +of the day. Of course wireless details predominated. +He went to sleep building in fancy the +station for his friend, Ben, down at his home. +He woke up to the lively sound of whistling outside +of the house. Tom went to the window +and looked out.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bright as a cricket, cheery and clean faced, +Harry was surveying what had been a jumbled-up +mass of kindling the night before. He had piled +it up symmetrically and had swept up the last +stray sliver of wood on the ground. Over +towards the vegetable beds was a five-foot heap +of weeds which his industry had collected.</p> +<p class="pnext">Suddenly the happy whistle ceased. Tom saw +his father come out of the house, stare at the +strange boy, then at the evidence of his enterprise, +and smile grimly. Mr. Barnes hailed the boy.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’re the lad my wife told me about, I +reckon,” observed the farmer.</p> +<p class="pnext">“If you mean the boy she was so kind to, yes +sir,” promptly responded Harry.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Who hired you?” demanded Mr. Barnes.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Who hired me?” repeated Harry in a +puzzled way.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, to do that,” and Mr. Barnes’ hand swept +the woodpile and the weed heap suggestively.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, that’s to pay for supper and lodging,” +explained Harry brightly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, we’ll count breakfast into the bargain,” +stipulated Mr. Barnes, “and if you get tired +doing nothing there’s five hundred weight of +grain in the barn I’ll pay you to grind.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You will?” cried Harry, his eyes sparkling. +“Show it to me, will you, please?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good for him,” commented Tom. “He’s +the real sort, and he’s got father on his side +all right.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Kindness, attention and the prospect of work +seemed to have wrought a marvellous change +in Harry. He little suggested the homeless forlorn +refuge of the previous night as he sat at the +breakfast table. He was lively and chatty, acting +the pleasant chum with Tom, the grateful guest +to motherly Mrs. Barnes, and narrating comical +experiences with amateur farmers he had worked +for to Mr. Barnes, keeping the latter in rare +good humor throughout the meal.</p> +<p class="pnext">About an hour later Ben arrived on the scene.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say, Tom,” was his first sprightly hail, +“Father says I’ve been hopping about like a chicken +with her head cut off ever since I got up—and +that was five o’clock.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s the trouble, Ben?” inquired Tom +with a smile, guessing.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Fever—the wireless kind,” chuckled Ben. +“I’ve got five fellows down at the old oak ready +to give all day to helping me get the outfit in +down at my house. Say, Tom, give me the key +to the tower and let me get that box of trimmings +Mr. Edson gave us, will you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I shall have to go on duty at the station soon, +Ben,” explained Tom, “but here’s the key. Get +down to the oak right away, and I’ll instruct you +how to dismantle my unfinished plant and start +you in at your house. Then at noon I’ll give +you another hour.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’d better come right up to our house for +supper, Tom,” suggested Ben, “and we can have +two full working hours by daylight after you +quit work.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Very well,” agreed Tom gladly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Never did a boy spend a more entrancing day +than Ben Dixon. His helpers at the blasted oak +were delighted to climb like monkeys to remove +the spirals and wires from the old tree, and handle +the queer contrivances contained in the box Mr. +Edson had donated.</p> +<p class="pnext">Harry Ashley spent the day between working +about the farm, visiting the scene of activity at +the Dixon place, and limping up to the tower.</p> +<p class="pnext">Only some exchange test calls came to Station Z +that day. Tom was encouraged to find how quickly +he could read them, and send the necessary replies.</p> +<p class="pnext">Nearly every lad in the neighborhood was on +hand that evening, when Tom arrived at the +Dixon place, and began to connect the various +devices of the wireless outfit. It took into the +next day fully to adjust the various parts.</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben was in a rare fever of excitement +and expectancy the second evening about seven +o’clock, when Tom announced to him that the +finishing touches of the experiment were in +process.</p> +<p class="pnext">“She’s all there, Ben,” he said triumphantly, +as he drew smooth the tinfoil tongues of the +setts of the coherer. “I’ll run down to Station Z +and give you a call to see if she works all +right.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben Dixon stood staring fixedly at the apparatus +rigged up in a shed running up to the spirals +strung to tree tops near the old barn. Six ardent +watchers sat astride a bench, mouths agape and +eyes bolting from their heads, resembling lads +awaiting the touching of a match to a powder +mine.</p> +<p class="pnext">Finally a thrill ran instantaneously from the +metallic poles through the vibrating parts of the +apparatus. As one after another the boys listened +at the telephone-like receiver, they heard +the tell-tale dots and dashes.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hurrah!” shouted Ben Dixon in a frenzy +of wild delight.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-via-tip-via-wireless"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id7">CHAPTER VI—A TIP VIA WIRELESS</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“This means business!” exclaimed Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">What Mr. Edson had predicted had happened—a +stray message that meant something, the accidental +discovery of news perhaps of vast importance +to the person for whom it was intended.</p> +<p class="pnext">The young wireless operator was a quick thinker. +The call was for O-17. Tom knew from +hearsay where that station was located.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mr. Morgan had a large stock farm a little +outside of a small hamlet called Deepdale. That +settlement had no telephone or telegraph service. +It was located nearly twenty miles from a railroad +station and any stranger sojourning there +was temporarily outside of civilization so far +as communication with the world was concerned.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was aware of all this. He readily figured +out as well why the message had been sent per +wireless to Station O-17. This was operated on +a high point of rocks directly on the coast +outside of Deepdale. It was one of a regular +chain in the coast service.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sender in New York City had some reason +for believing that Mr. Morgan was at his stock +farm and not at his home at Fernwood, near +Rockley Cove. It was imperative that he get in +communication with him within an hour. He +had risked all on the message finding Mr. +Morgan at Deepdale.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, I met Mr. Morgan this morning in +his automobile coming from the direction of +Deepdale,” soliloquized Tom. “He must have +changed his plans. No delay now. This must +be important.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom trusted to his memory as to the subject +matter of the wireless message. As he hastily +descended from the tower, however, he repeated +it over mentally to make sure he would not forget +any salient point.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The message mentioned ‘U. Cal.’,” breathed +Tom. “I can guess what that means.”</p> +<p class="pnext">To his way of thinking it meant “United Calcium.” +Only two days previous in the Rockley +Cove <em>Weekly Clarion</em> Tom had read a bit of +current gossip about the present subject of his +thoughts.</p> +<p class="pnext">The item had referred to some late investments +of the retired capitalist. It specifically cited the +fact that “our esteemed townsman,” Mr. Walter +Morgan, it was rumored, was negotiating for +the control of the stock of the United Calcium +Company. The investment, it was stated, would +involve nearly a quarter of a million dollars of +capital.</p> +<p class="pnext">Now it appeared the partner or business representative +of Mr. Morgan in New York City +had discovered a flaw in the proposition, and had +anxiously and urgently wired for instructions.</p> +<p class="pnext">Station Z was just two miles from Fernwood, +the summer home of the Morgans. It lay directly +on the ocean, and was a straight course. +Tom thought of Grace Morgan as he braced up +for a vigorous walk. That was quite natural, +for they were good friends. He lamented that +he was not in very dressy shape to meet the dainty +little miss, whom he would probably find in the +pink of perfection as to garb and appearance, +as she generally was.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can’t help it, this is business,” decided Tom +grimly. “Maybe I won’t meet her,” he added +hopefully.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom undertook a big spurt of speed. As he +came to Silver Creek, two school chums getting +ready to start fishing yelled at him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hey, Tom!” cried one mandatorily.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, we want you,” piped the other.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can’t stop,” panted Tom, waving his hand, +and speeding on as if he were entered for a +Marathon.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ve lost no time, that’s sure,” he decided as +he passed the boathouse at the end of the private +pier belonging to Fernwood.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom came to the terrace in front of the Morgan +mansion. A fluttering white dress attracted +his attention from the front porch of the house, +and Grace came into view.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, Tom!” she said in a genuine friendly +welcome. “Come up and sit down. You look +tired out.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, been running hard,” explained Tom, +short-breathed and excited. “Must see your +father.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Father?” repeated Grace, quite surprised.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, Mr. Morgan, is he at home?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, no, Tom.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Where will I find him, then?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, you are so excited, Tom!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Reason to be,” gulped Tom. “Please don’t +delay. It’s important.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Papa just left in the automobile for Springville. +There is a meeting of bank directors there, +he told me. There’s the horn now.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Excuse me,” said Tom hastily, and bolted +unceremoniously around the side of the house +where the announcement from the automobile had +echoed.</p> +<p class="pnext">Pretty Miss Morgan looked amazed, and +tapped her daintily slippered foot in a vexed +way at the ungallant disappearance of her acquaintance. +Tom, however, did not wait for explanations. +He had caught sight of the Morgan +automobile. It was just passing upon the roadway +leading west from the rear of the grounds.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hold on—stop!” yelled Tom irrepressibly.</p> +<p class="pnext">The puffing of the newly-started machine apparently +drowned out his hail. The hood of +the tonneau shut Tom out from sight of Mr. +Morgan and his chauffeur.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom ran no farther after the rapidly-gliding +car. He saw in a flash that his only chance of +stopping it was by a sharp swift dash diagonally +to a point where the circling road cut south. He +speeded reckless of flower beds and fences on +his mission, flew heedless of mud and water +through an obstructing swale, and, breathless and +pretty nearly exhausted, gained the main-road.</p> +<p class="pnext">Honk! honk!—not a hundred yards distant +the chauffeur sounded a warning as Tom sprang +into the middle of the highway, waving his arms +violently to call a halt.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s this?” demanded Mr. Morgan sharply, +as the chauffeur perforce let the machine down +to a dead stop.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I beg your pardon, Mr. Morgan——” began +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Young Barnes?” observed the capitalist, with +a surprised stare at Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, sir,” hurried on Tom. “I have some +important news for you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Important news for me?” repeated Mr. +Morgan vaguely.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, sir.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Who from?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Your partner, sir, or agent in New York +City.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What?” cried Mr. Morgan. “How does it +come through you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“By wireless,” reported Tom promptly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, I’ve heard something about your dabbling +in that.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can I speak before your chauffeur?” inquired +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“If you have anything to say, go ahead.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, sir,” said Tom, “I caught a message +sent to wireless station O-17, up at Deepdale. +It seems that the sender expected to reach you +there. His name appears to be Dunbar.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, yes,” urged Mr. Morgan impatiently, +“I sent word I would be at Deepdale until to-morrow, +but changed my plans.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It was fortunate that I knew you were back,” +said Tom. “The message seems important.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Out with it,” ordered Mr. Morgan.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think I can repeat it word for word.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Do so, then.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“‘Have a tip that U. Cal. cannot prove up on +patents. News will be public before night. +Order your subscription cancelled before afternoon +session of Stock Exchange, or there will be a +heavy loss.’”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Thunder!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Mr. Morgan jumped up fully a foot on the +cushioned seat of the tonneau. His face went +white as chalk. He seemed about to spring from +the automobile. Then he jerked out his watch, +fell back, and, trembling all over, gasped out +to the chauffeur:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Drive for your life to the telegraph office at +Rockley Cove. Don’t lose a second!”</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-viigrace-morgan"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id8">CHAPTER VII—GRACE MORGAN</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Tom stepped aside quickly as the chauffeur set +the power, and the machine made a sharp jump. +As it flashed around a curve bound townwards Mr. +Morgan leaned over the back of the tonneau.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I won’t forget this, Barnes,” he bawled loudly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good for the wireless!” exclaimed Tom, +with a genuine flush of delight.</p> +<p class="pnext">He felt well satisfied with the exploit of the +moment. He was flushed, bedraggled and exhausted, +but there was the thrill of a big action +accomplished and the utility of Station Z established.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom glanced longingly in the direction of +Fernwood and then at his soaked shoes, and +shook his head dolefully.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It won’t do,” he ruminated. “Grace is probably +offended at me for bolting away so unceremoniously, +and I’ll wait until I can make my +apologies in better trim.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom kept a patch of timber between himself +and the Morgan place, and reached the beach +road on a detour. He was summarily halted as +he passed the flight of steps leading up to the +terrace. A silvery but peremptory voice called +out:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Stop there, Tom Barnes!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Grace Morgan came tripping down the steps +a minute later. There was a pretty pout of pettishness +on her winsome face, and her eyes did +not look altogether pleased.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What do you mean by running away from +me, sir?” she challenged, gaining the side of +Tom, and regarding him as if she was never +going to forgive him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Business is my only excuse,” explained Tom +meekly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You mean with my father?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes——”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Did you overtake him?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am glad to say I did,” replied Tom, “and +I think your father is, too.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What was it about?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom laughed evasively,</p> +<p class="pnext">“You must ask him that yourself.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Miss Morgan looked mild daggers at Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I never met such rude, unfriendly boys!” +she declared.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, there are more offenders than my poor +humble self?” interrogated Tom archly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, there are,” declared the indignant miss. +“Mart Walters has a friend from Boston visiting +him—Bert Aldrich. He made an engagement to +be here an hour ago with his gasoline launch. Gentlemen +keep their engagements!” concluded Grace +with emphasis.</p> +<p class="pnext">Unconsciously Grace had walked along with +Tom, much to his personal pleasure.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, I’m glad,” he observed.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Glad of what?” demanded Miss Morgan +suspiciously.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, everything,” replied Tom bluntly, with +a significance that caused Grace to blush. “As +to my own transgression,” he went on, “as I +told you, I can’t explain details, but I do not +think your father would mind my telling you that +I brought him an important message from my +wireless.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Your wireless?” exclaimed Grace in a +sprightly tone. “Oh, Tom, I heard about that. +Is it really true that you know how to telegraph +all over the world, and rescue sinking steamers, +and catch fleeing criminals, and—and all that?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Impetuous Miss Morgan had gone off in a +rhapsody over the great enthusiastic theme of +Tom’s mind, and he was truly delighted.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, hardly,” he said. “You see, I haven’t +reached that yet. It may come—I hope it does. +That’s why I’m sticking to it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can I come and see you do it?” implored +Grace excitedly. “Can I come into the tower +and watch the messages come in, and see everything?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I shall feel honored if you do,” replied Tom +proudly. “Ah, there’s another of those shells.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom’s foot had kicked up a pearly odd-shaped +shell in the sand. He stooped and secured it.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, how odd and beautiful!” cried Grace. +“Oh, Tom, can I have it for my collection? I +haven’t one like it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You certainly can,” answered Tom gladly. +“We call that the peach blow, and it’s pretty rare. +I didn’t know you were interested in shells.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I dote on them,” declared Grace. “Oh, +Tom!”</p> +<p class="pnext">From his pocket he had taken a handful of +exquisite specimens of star pebbles and shells he +had gathered up within a week, and tendered them +for a choice to his pretty companion.</p> +<p class="pnext">They strolled on for nearly half a mile. Tom +explained that he must get back to the wireless +station, but he could not resist lingering when +Grace sat down to rest on an upturned boat on +the beach. She occupied the time between admiring +the pretty shells he had given her and +inquiring into the details of his work at the +wireless tower. Tom was in the midst of a +description of some of the methods employed in +sending wireless messages, when he paused and +glanced seawards.</p> +<p class="pnext">“There is your friend, Grace,” said Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">A natty gasoline launch was approaching the +pier up-shore. Tom made out two passengers, +both of whom he recognized. One was Mart +Walters. The other boatman was at the wheel. +Tom had seen him twice on the street of Rockley +Cove and knew who he was—young Aldrich, the +friend about whom Mart was so continually +boasting.</p> +<p class="pnext">Grace Morgan glanced in the direction of the +pier. Then, as if totally uninterested in what +was going on there, she turned her back upon it +and led an animated conversation with her companion. +Tom kept facing the pier. From the +launch Aldrich finally leaped ashore, evidently +made them out, and leaving Mart in charge of +the launch walked rapidly up the beach.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think I had better be getting back to the +tower,” said Tom, as the newcomer neared them,</p> +<p class="pnext">“Don’t be in a hurry, Tom,” advised Grace, +with a slightly malicious twinkle in her eye. “Oh, +you, Mr. Aldrich?” she added, arising with a +formal bow to the young man, who, arrayed in +fancy yachting costume, was quite a “swell” +sight, indeed.</p> +<p class="pnext">She introduced them, but Mr. Aldrich was not +inclined to make any friendly advances towards a +boy in common working clothes. He deliberately +turned his back on Tom, and began a conversation +with Grace.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Had we not better start out on our cruise?” +he asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, I had forgotten all about it, quite,” +declared the wilful miss, with an encouraging +smile at Tom, which quite nettled the newcomer.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The water is very smooth,” observed young +Aldrich. “I am sure you will enjoy it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I regret it very much,” replied Grace, “but +I was ready an hour ago. It is my time for +musical practice now, and you will have to excuse +me. Don’t hasten, Tom,” she added, crossing +over to Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think I had better be getting back on duty +at the wireless station,” said our hero.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Wireless, eh?” young Aldrich condescended +to observe at this juncture. “In with that fad, +eh?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am trying to make something more than a +fad out of it,” replied Tom pleasantly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Wire repairer or something of that sort?” +intimated Bert Aldrich with a supercilious stare +at Tom’s working clothes.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Indeed, no,” flashed out Grace resentfully. +“Tom is quite an expert, aren’t you, Tom? He +has been telling me the most delightful and fascinating +things about the wireless. Oh, there +is papa!”</p> +<p class="pnext">There was an abrupt lull in the conversation +as the Morgan automobile came down the beach +road from the direction of Rockley Cove. Mr. +Morgan gave the chauffeur the signal to stop and +leaped from the machine in an excited way.</p> +<p class="pnext">The politic young Aldrich advanced to meet +the capitalist, all smiles and ceremony. Mr. +Morgan almost brushed him aside, not even noticing +the extended hand.</p> +<p class="pnext">He went straight up to Tom, and his eyes +glowed with friendly interest. Mr. Morgan +caught both of Tom’s hands in his own and gave +them a hearty shake.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Barnes,” he said, “I stopped to say just a +word to you. I must get to the city at once, but +when I return I want you to come down to Fernwood. +I have something important to say to +you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Thank you, Mr. Morgan,” bowed Tom +courteously.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You have saved me much of my fortune,” +declared the capitalist in a tremulous, grateful +tone. “How shall I ever repay you? Going up +to the house, Grace?” he inquired of his daughter.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, papa, it is my practice hour.”</p> +<p class="pnext">With a bewitching smile for Tom and a crisp +little nod to Bert Aldrich the miss sprang airily +into the car.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, Tom,” she called back to the young +wireless operator, as she mischievously noted the +discomfited look on the face of young Aldrich, +“I won’t be like some people—I’ll be on time to-morrow +to have you show me all the wonders +of that delightful wireless tower of yours.”</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-viiiquick-action"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id9">CHAPTER VIII—QUICK ACTION</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“Whew!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Some storm, Tom!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I shouldn’t fancy many gusts like that last one.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Station Z quivered like an eggshell in the hand +of a giant. A loose piece of wood from the roof +of the operating cabin struck a sash, demolishing +two panes of glass, and the iron framework +rocked to and fro in the heaviest wind storm that +had struck Sandy Point in years.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom Barnes glanced anxiously at the delicate +wireless apparatus which shared sensitively in +the pervading disturbance. His companion, Harry +Ashley, was looking around for something to +fasten over the broken window to shut out the +driving rain.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was three days after the Morgan incident, +and Tom was now fairly in the wireless harness. +It had been lowering weather all day, and Tom +had been glad that the rain had held off until +Grace Morgan, who, with her music teacher, had +spent a delightful hour going over the wonders +of Station Z, had gotten home before the tempest +broke.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom had obtained his mother’s consent to his +remaining all night at the tower. It was the current +conviction among all coast wireless men that +a stormy night usually brought urgent and important +service. A storm generally meant distress +of some kind at sea, and Tom wanted to +be on hand in case of emergency, as he had promised +Mr. Edson.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was agreed that Harry Ashley should remain +with him, and Mrs. Barnes had put up a +fine lunch. About five o’clock when the wind +began to rise with low rumblings of thunder in +the distance and fitful gusts of wind, Tom held +eye and attention close on the apparatus, ready +for what might come.</p> +<p class="pnext">Within an hour, however, his thoughts, as well +as those of his companion, were mainly concerned +in their own immediate environment. The storm +was not accompanied by very vivid lightning, but +the wind had risen to hurricane force.</p> +<p class="pnext">Just before dusk a particularly severe gust +broke down a large elm tree in sight. A little +later a boat shed near the beach toppled over, +and the fragments were carried like kindling wood +out into the hissing, boiling surf.</p> +<p class="pnext">About half an hour after dark, Harry, at +the window, had sounded a quick alarm.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tom!” he had shouted, “every light in the +town has shut off in a second!”</p> +<p class="pnext">This meant that the storm had carried down +the electric supply line from Springville. Tom +thought uneasily of the folks at home. Then the +assaults of the high breeze on their aerial perch +caused him to center his attention on their own +position, and be ready to save themselves if collapse +came.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Here, Harry, use this,” ordered Tom, as his +companion picked up a coat to stop up the hole +in the broken sash.</p> +<p class="pnext">Harry took the square piece of matting Tom +tendered. He picked a hammer and nails to +secure it across the sash. About to set it in +place, however, he interrupted proceedings with +a violent:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hark!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s the matter, Harry?” questioned +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">Harry held up a hand, warningly. He bent +his ear keenly towards the aperture. Then he +turned to Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Did you hear it?” he demanded.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hear what?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That shout—a cry?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Wasn’t it the wind?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, I am sure not. Come here. There it +is again!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom ran to the window. Both held their +breath in suspense. Both started with intelligence +and certainty now.</p> +<p class="pnext">A fearful echoing cry rose far above the +whistling, shrieking storm—the echo of a human +voice.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Help! help! help!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s no imagination,” declared Harry.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, someone is in trouble,” acquiesced Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s right down on the road running to the +beach,” said Harry.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Come on,” urged Tom definitely, “we must +investigate this.”</p> +<p class="pnext">He seized a lantern and threw open the trap +door. Harry was at his heels promptly. A +gust of wind and a forceful dash of rain nearly +swept them off their feet as they reached the +ground.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Which way?” asked Harry quickly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hark!” interrupted Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">Again the cry rang out. It was fainter, less +emphatic than before, but nearer. Tom could +trace the point of the compass from which it +came. He ran in that direction, holding the lantern +before him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“There he is!” cried Harry suddenly. +“Don’t run over him, Tom.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Coming to an abrupt halt, both boys stared +in startled excitement at a human being on hands +and knees making his way from the side of the +road. Near to him was a tangled mass of wreckage +which had been a bicycle. Its shattered skeleton +covered a big flat rock, into which it had +run to be completely demolished.</p> +<p class="pnext">The recent rider was bareheaded, and from a +wound in his temple the blood trickled down +over his face and hands. One arm was helpless, +and doubled up under him at every futile attempt +at forward progress.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why,” shouted Tom, swinging the lantern +forward so that its rays covered the man, “it’s +Mr. Barton.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tom—Tom—” quavered the man, looking +up through half blinded eyes, “quick—the doctor!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s that?” Tom challenged, keenly alive +to the fact that Mr. Barton’s presence and condition +signified some important circumstance.</p> +<p class="pnext">But the man with a groan fell flat, rolled over +on his side, and lay like one dead in the road.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say, Tom, what shall we do?” inquired +Harry in an awesome whisper.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We mustn’t let this man die here, exposed +to the storm. He may be seriously injured.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It looks that way. I suppose he ran or was +blown into that big rock yonder.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” nodded Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What was he doing, though, out such a night +as this on a bicycle?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“He said something about a doctor. Help +me, Harry, we must get him under shelter.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We can’t carry him up into the tower.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“There’s the old tool shed. Ready?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, Tom.”</p> +<p class="pnext">They managed to convey the insensible man +to the dilapidated structure Tom had mentioned. +Its roof was like a sieve, and several boards were +missing from its sides, but it afforded some security +from the tempest.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom placed a pile of old bags under the man’s +head and set the lantern near.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Do you know him, Tom?” asked Harry.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, yes, he is almost a neighbor of ours. +He runs a small truck farm and has quite a +family. Wet this, Harry, soaking.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom gave his handkerchief to his companion, +who went outside and saturated it in a deep +puddle. Tom washed the dirt from the face of +the injured man and tried to staunch the flow of +blood.</p> +<p class="pnext">He listened at his heart and to his breathing, +and lifted the limb that seemed to have lost its +natural power.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He breathes all right,” reported Tom to his +anxious companion. “His arm is sprained or +broken, though.”,</p> +<p class="pnext">“We must get him home, Tom.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“In this storm—with no conveyance?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s so. He might die, though, if we +don’t get a doctor.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“He’s coming to,” said Tom suddenly. “Mr. +Barton! Mr. Barton!” called Tom gently. +“Don’t you know me?”</p> +<p class="pnext">The man opened his eyes, stared vaguely, and +then tried to arise. He fell back again instantly, +however, with a moan of weakness.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No use!” he gasped. “My head is splitting +and I’ve got no strength left in me at all. It was +a fearful shock, a header full force, and—the +doctor!” he shouted suddenly, almost in a +scream.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What doctor, Mr. Barton?” inquired Tom +solicitously.</p> +<p class="pnext">“From Rockville.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What about him?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“My child—dying!” wailed the man. “Dr. +Burr, the only one in Rockley Cove, is away.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s so, I remember hearing of that,” +assented Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Lights in town shut off, telephone lines all +down—the doctor, quick!”</p> +<p class="pnext">With these last words pronounced in a painful gasp, +Mr. Barton succumbed and fell back +unconscious again.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tom, we’ve got to do something!” cried +Harry, greatly worked up by all that was happening.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom’s face showed the greatest anxiety and +concern. The situation as revealed by the disconnected +utterance of the injured man was serious +and critical.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom pictured the storm-swept village in his +mind’s eye—the lights out, telephone service disrupted, +and a father despairingly endeavoring to +get word to the nearest doctor, five miles distant.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Wait here, watch him,” ordered Tom sharply, +making up his mind what he would do.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can you do anything?” questioned Harry +eagerly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll try,” replied Tom, starting in the direction +of the tower.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The wireless!” cried Harry, his eyes snapping +animatedly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was up the ladder and through the trap +door in a hurry. He had his plan, but its success +depended on two circumstances: first, if Ben +Dixon was in reach of the amateur wireless outfit +at the home nest; and second, if the telephone +circuit the Dixon home was on, which belonged +to a different system to that at Rockley Cove, was +in working order.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom speedily gave the call to the station at +the Dixon place. He did not wait for any response. +He repeated the call briskly. Then he +flashed off the message he had in mind. Then +he repeated the message twice. Then—Tom +waited.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was a lapse of nearly ten minutes. Tom +began to consider that Ben was not on duty. +Suddenly there was a spitting crackle in the receiver.</p> +<p class="pnext">“O.K.,” came the slow message. “Telephone +all right. Reached doctor. On way to Rockley +Cove now.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good!” cried Tom.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-ixstrictly-business"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id10">CHAPTER IX—STRICTLY BUSINESS</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Tom’s face was hopeful and pleased as he descended +through the trap door to the ground +with his good news.</p> +<p class="pnext">“How is he?” was his eager inquiry, as he +stepped inside the doorway of the old tool shed.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He’s just begun to move again,” reported +Harry, “but he has been twisting about and +moaning terribly.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mr. Barton! Mr. Barton!” shouted Tom +in the ear of their patient, as the eyes of the latter +opened and stared wildly at him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I remember now,” spoke Mr. Barton weakly. +“It’s Tom Barnes?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” assented Tom. “That’s better,” he +added, as the man sat up. “Don’t give way +again, Mr. Barton, it’s all right.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s all right, Tom?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good news. The doctor.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes! yes!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I sent word to him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How could you? The telephone lines are +dead.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“By wireless, to my friend, Ben Dixon, who +runs a small station. He got my message. Their +telephone service is all right. The doctor is now +on his way to your home.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, thank you, Tom, thank you!” cried Mr. +Barton fervently.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s great, Tom,” commented Harry heartily.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I noticed a light in the nearest house yonder,” +proceeded Tom. “The wind has gone +down a good deal. Could you make it, do you +think, Harry?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You mean get to the house?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, of course.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Take your lantern so you won’t run into anything +or lose your way.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right. What then?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“An old fish peddler lives there. Tell him of +the fix Mr. Barton is in.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I understand.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And ask him to hitch up and try and get +him home.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll do that,” said Harry promptly, as he +picked up the lantern and put for the door.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom urged hope and patience on his charge. +The announcement that he had succeeded in getting a +doctor started for Rockley Cove had +worked a great change in the patient. He forgot +his sufferings in his joy at the knowledge that help +was on the way to his dying child at home.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was about ten minutes later when there was +a rattle of decrepit wheels and a resounding call:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Whoa!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’re here,” reported Harry, springing +from the peddler’s wagon.</p> +<p class="pnext">Its owner had spread some blankets on the +floor of the vehicle, making a comfortable bed +for the injured man. They lifted him into the +wagon box as carefully as they could.</p> +<p class="pnext">“How shall I ever thank you, Tom?” asked +Mr. Barton gratefully.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Don’t try,” said Tom. “Just get home and +get mended up, and I hope the doctor is in time +to save your child.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom, left alone, returned to the tower. He +felt well satisfied with the way affairs were progressing. +He had been able to demonstrate some +practicability to Station Z, and the fact encouraged +him greatly.</p> +<p class="pnext">The storm had subsided considerably. The +rain had ceased entirely, and the wind came only +in occasional gusts, diminishing gradually in their +violence.</p> +<p class="pnext">It must have been an hour later when Tom, +almost dozing in his chair before the operating +table, gave a great start as a cheery signal whistle +rang out from below.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ben,” he soliloquized, quite glad to welcome +a companion in his loneliness.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ve come,” announced his chum, appearing +through the trap opening. “Ugh! but it was a +tough fight part of the way! I was nearly blown +into the surf once or twice.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What brought you out such a night as this?” +challenged Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Just what is keeping you here,” retorted +Ben; “the chance of something exciting happening. +Say, that message of yours has just stirred +me up.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You got it all right?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“The first time. I expected there might be +business such a night as this, and kept watch for +it. Our ’phone was all right, and I got the doctor +at once. He said he would start without +delay for Rockley Cove.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I hope he made it,” said Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He must have, for he had the smooth sheltered +turnpike to take, and the storm is nothing +much now. Our folks were delighted to think +that our toy telegraph, as they call it, did something +really useful, and they let me come down +to stay all night.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m glad of it, Ben,” replied Tom. “Harry +will be back soon. We’ve got a lunch mother put +up for us, and we can make a pleasant night of +it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s just famous!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben removed his wet jacket and took up a +comfortable position in a chair. Tom told of +the injured Mr. Barton and what he had done +for him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I say, Tom,” suddenly asked Ben, during the +pause after they had discussed current topics, +“heard anything from Mr. Edson lately?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom’s face fell instantly, as though the remark +suggested some unpleasant and disturbing subject. +He looked quite anxious.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, Ben,” he replied, “I got a letter this +morning. He will be here to-morrow.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How’s that?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It seems he has made his arrangement to +go into paid service on the North Atlantic coast.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And he wants his money?” questioned Ben +uneasily.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s about it,” answered Tom in a subdued +tone.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Too bad!” murmured Ben. “You can’t +reach it any way, Tom?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m afraid not,” responded Tom. “As you +know, my aunt wrote me yesterday that she had +everything invested. She said that the first of +the month she had some interest money coming +in, and would send me a hundred dollars as soon +as it did.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“But that’s too late to do any good.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” admitted Tom reluctantly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Then you’ll have to give up the station +here?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m afraid I will,” answered Tom with a +sigh. “I’ll tell you frankly, I felt pretty hopeful +of getting the money from another source, but +I’m disappointed in that, too.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What source, Tom?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mr. Morgan.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, yes! Well,” declared Ben, “he ought +to.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am sure he would help me if he were at +home,” said Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You did a big thing for him, Tom.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mr. Morgan thinks that way himself. I am +sure of it, from what he said.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Maybe he will return to-morrow,” suggested +Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Grace says he has business in New York +until the end of the week.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Too bad!” exclaimed Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, it can’t be helped,” said Tom philosophically. +“I’ll just have to start in a more +modest way. Mr. Edson is poor, and has got +to realize right off from his investment here, he +wrote me. Just think of it,” added Tom, gazing about +the room with longing enthusiastic +eyes, “we’ve got to give it all up, maybe the +chance of a lifetime, because we can’t raise the +money.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How much do you need?” challenged a sharp +voice suddenly, bringing both boys to their feet +with a shock.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xa-young-capitalist"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id11">CHAPTER X—A YOUNG CAPITALIST</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Harry Ashley stuck his head up through the +trap opening, and climbed into the room with +the announcement:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Overheard what you said, so—how much do +you want?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom only smiled. The idea of a money offer +from Harry was amusing. Ben assumed a mock +gravity of manner with the words:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Give us a check right on the spot, I suppose?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“About that, if you don’t want too much,” +answered Harry seriously.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We won’t call on you just yet, Harry,” said +Tom. “What about Mr. Barton?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We got him home all right.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And the child?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’ve done a big piece of work with your +wireless this night, Tom Barnes,” replied Harry, +his eyes brightening. “We found the doctor at +the Barton home when we arrived. He got +there just in time. Said half an hour more and +the patient would have been beyond help.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s grand!” voiced Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He’s fixed up Mr. Barton’s bruises. Says +his arm is only sprained, and that he’ll be around +as well as ever in a week. I wish you’d heard +that mother speak when they told her about what +you had done in saving her child.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“With your help, remember that.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“H’m,” said Harry with a wriggle, and blushing +like a school girl. “The peddler has gone +out into the country to bring a sister of Mrs. +Barton to the house, and I wanted to get back +here. Now that Ben is here, it seems jollier +than ever. I must go to the peddler’s house, +though, and tell his wife that her husband won’t +be home for an hour or two. I promised him +I would.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right, Harry,” said Tom briskly. “Then +we’ll have a little lunch.”</p> +<p class="pnext">But Harry tarried. About to descend the +ladder, he turned around with the pertinent +query:</p> +<p class="pnext">“About that money that had to be paid, or +you’d lose the station here.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You heard about it, did you?” questioned +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Didn’t I tell you I did? Come, Tom, how +much do you want?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Supposing you knew, what good would that +do?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I may help you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben looked skeptical and grinned. Then, +sobering down, he said:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Don’t make fun of us.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m not.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s serious enough as it is. Tom needs +a hundred dollars.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Does he?” exclaimed Harry with animation. +“Well, he can have it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Who from?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Me. One hundred? Oh, that’s easy—awfully +easy,” declared Harry, as if very much +pleased.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I suppose you are ready to supply the amount, +cash down?” said Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“On the nail head!” cried Harry, a ring of +genuine confidence in his tone. “See here, you +fellows, you’ve been the truest chums I ever ran +across. I’ve got a hundred dollars, yes, nearly +double that, and all you’ve got to do is to take +it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I only want to borrow—until my aunt collects +her interest money,” said Tom, half hopeful, +half doubting that unexpected good fortune was +about to materialize.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Six months, a year—it’s all the same to me,” +declared Harry gaily. “I’d give it to you outright +if—if I could,” he stammered rather blunderingly. +“There you are.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben in his stupefaction and Tom in wonder +regarded the strange boy who had so warmly +won their friendship during the brief period of +their acquaintanceship. Harry had drawn off +his rather threadbare coat. Then he reached +inside the shirt he wore.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, what next?” interrogated Ben, watching +the movement curiously.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The hundred dollars, of course,” pronounced +Harry. “Think I’m fooling?”</p> +<p class="pnext">He had been fumbling with one hand inside his +shirt. Something clicked like a snap of a buckle. +Then he drew into view a long snake-like object.</p> +<p class="pnext">“A belt,” murmured Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s right,” nodded Harry.</p> +<p class="pnext">With a clang he landed it on the table. He +beckoned to Tom and Ben to approach.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I made that belt myself,” he went on, with +some pride in his tone. “Looks like a sectional +rattlesnake, eh? It’s made out of snakeskin. See, +it’s got pockets. This one,” and Harry unsnapped +a button—“pennies.”</p> +<p class="pnext">A dozen cent pieces rolled out. He gave them +a peep into five other similar pockets.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Nickels, dimes, quarters, half dollars,” recited +Harry. “Then this one at the end—ten, +twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, one hundred. There’s +your money, Tom. I’ll take your note when it’s +convenient.”</p> +<p class="pnext">From a last compartment in the belt the speaker +had produced a goodly roll of banknotes. He +counted off the bills with the flippancy and skill +of a bank cashier. Tom sat staring at the little +heap that meant his business salvation, fairly +agape.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The mischief!” giggled the petrified Ben. +“It’s real money!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, and hard earned, and mine,” said Harry.</p> +<p class="pnext">“But how, where——”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Did I get it?” smiled Harry. “Work, hard +work, fellows,” and there was a mingled pride +and fondness in Harry’s voice. “That little heap +means over a year of hard knocks and close +scrapings, before I had the typhoid fever.”</p> +<p class="pnext">A strange silence fell over the trio of chums. +Harry had come into the life of Tom and Ben +in a strange way, and had won their confidence +and friendship from the start. He had become +quite a fixture at the Barnes homestead. Mr. +Barnes had come to depend on him for an hour +or two of pottering around at odd tasks on the +farm, and felt that his young helper amply paid +for his meals and lodging. At length Tom spoke, +his face flushed with pleasure.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’re a queer fellow, Harry,” he said heartily, +“and you are a good fellow. You are willing +to lend me this money?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Willing?” repeated Harry. “Glad, honored, +delighted. Is a hundred enough?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, indeed.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right, there it is. Don’t you look at me +in that leery way, Ben Dixon,” said Harry, with +a chuckle. “I haven’t been stealing anything. +That money is mine, all mine, and honestly mine. +There is this much I will tell you about it, though: +it is a part of a certain amount I am hoping to +reach to pay a certain person.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Money that you owe?” ventured Ben, consumed +with curiosity.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, and no. I’m to save five hundred dollars,”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Whew! that’s a heap.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll reach it,” declared Harry confidently—“in +time. It’s money that I must repay.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That you borrowed?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“No.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, that you took?” insinuated Ben, in his +blunt, straightforward way.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, sir! Do you take me for a thief?” +cried Harry indignantly. “I’ll tell you this much +more: I was living with a man I didn’t like so +very much. I made up my mind to cut out from +him. I wanted first to find some papers of mine +I believed he had in his possession. When he +was away from home one night, I took a lighted +candle and made a tour of investigation. I came +across a pile of banknotes. A strip around them +said ‘Five Hundred Dollars.’ I went on searching +for what I was after, but didn’t find it. When +I turned around to take up the candle, the drawer +in which I had placed it was all ablaze. The +banknotes were a heap of crisp cinders.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well!” ejaculated Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I tell you I was scared,” confessed Harry. +“He was a close-fisted, mysterious old fellow, +and—well, I decided to get out. I left a note +telling the circumstances of the accident, and said +that I would work my finger nails off to earn that +five hundred dollars and bring it back to him, +some day. I’ve been doing it ever since.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s a remarkable story, Harry Ashley,” +said Ben, in earnest admiration.</p> +<p class="pnext">Harry pushed the bills over to Tom, restored +the belt to its place, and, with the indifference of +a millionaire, started for the trap door.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I must tell the peddler’s wife about her husband’s +delay,” he said. “Glad to oblige you, +Tom. I’ll be back soon.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom grasped the banknotes thoughtfully, and +with an expression of gladness and relief on his +face.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What luck!” commented Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am awfully glad to get the money,” said +Tom, with deep feeling. “Harry is a splendid +fellow. It’s only a loan, but think what it means +to me just at this time!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“There’s something!” exclaimed Ben suddenly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hello!” said Tom, all attention at once to +the clicks. Then his face broke into a smile.</p> +<p class="pnext">“‘Donner’ again!” cried Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“After a lapse of two days,” observed Tom. +“Listen.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The mysterious “spook” of Mr. Edson was in +evidence once more.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He’s getting along better,” said Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“‘Donner’ tapped that out pretty fair. ‘Lost +boy.’ What’s that? ‘Money’ again. Thousand +dollars.’ He’s getting extravagant. ‘Donner.’ +H’m!”</p> +<p class="pnext">There was a lapse. Tom laughed and Ben +chuckled. “Donner” was a standing joke now.</p> +<p class="pnext">“There, he’s at it again,” announced Ben a +moment later. “‘Donner. Lost boy.’ Yes, +we’ve heard that before. Hello! here’s something +new.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” nodded Tom, translating the message: +“Lost boy named Ernest Warren. Look out for +sun, moon and stars on his left shoulder.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Wonder who the lost boy can be?” said +Ben in a ruminative tone.</p> +<p class="pnext">They were soon to learn that—in a startling +and unexpected manner.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xia-great-step-forward"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id12">CHAPTER XI—A GREAT STEP FORWARD</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“Mr. Barnes, I believe?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, I am Tom Barnes,” said the young wireless +operator of station Z.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was in the old windmill tower, and had +been tidying up generally. He had just come +from dinner, and was alone in the operating room.</p> +<p class="pnext">He had checked himself in the middle of a +whistling tune to survey a head and then the +shoulders and body of a stranger, coming up +through the trap door.</p> +<p class="pnext">The intruder was a keen-eyed, sharp-featured +man of about thirty, very neatly dressed, and +very erect and soldierly in his general appearance.</p> +<p class="pnext">He nodded briskly to Tom, crossed the room, +and, uninvited, sank into the nearest chair.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Glad I found you,” he said, and then took +a close survey of Tom and of the furnishings +of the room. “Heard about you at the town, +and being somewhat interested in these new-fangled +wireless ideas, I thought you wouldn’t +mind a casual visitor.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, indeed,” answered Tom readily. “I am +only too glad to meet anybody who is interested +as to our little station here.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s quite a plant,” declared the stranger. +“Tell me something about it, will you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">An enthusiastic boy like Tom was only too +ready to enter into a general description of the +parts and utilities of the apparatus. The stranger +listened intently, approbatively too, it seemed to +Tom. He followed the indication of Tom’s +finger as it pointed out this and that attachment +of the general operating device; and arose and +looked closer as Tom explained in detail and +very clearly some intricate features of the mechanism.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s pretty interesting,” voiced the man +at length, “and you seem to know your business.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, I’m only a novice, a mere amateur,” insisted +Tom modestly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s that now?” inquired the visitor, +reaching a careless hand very near to the coherer.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Look out!” shouted Tom warningly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s the trouble?” calmly interrogated +the man.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Danger. You’ll get a hard shock if you +touch that.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll be careful,” pledged the stranger, and +to Tom’s amazement with a deft expert touch +he dislodged the cap of one of the glass tubes. +“I say, my friend,” he added, gazing down into +the cup critically, “you’d get much better action +if you’d mix in some fine brass filings here. The +old stuff is pretty well corroded.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I had noticed that,” said Tom, “and have +sent to the city for new material.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“There’s another point worth your attention,” +resumed the man, pointing up at the secondary +circuit. “A double coil to that condenser would +strengthen your current.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom stared at the speaker in a vague way. He +was a good deal surprised and also suspicious +at the facility with which this avowed seeker for +information exhibited a profound knowledge of +the very subject under discussion.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You seem to know something about it,” observed +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">The man did not reply. He busied himself +with a fixed and calculating glance through the +roof skylight up at the metal nets and spirals.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Very good,” he said, half aloud, “and kept +in very fair order, too.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m glad to hear you say it, Mr ——?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am expecting a friend who will introduce +us,” said the stranger, with a peculiar smile. +“Ah, there he is now.”</p> +<p class="pnext">He moved to the window, and in quite a friendly fashion +waved his hand to an occupant of an +automobile that had just driven up from the +beach road.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom at once recognized it as the Morgan +machine. Its owner alighted, and a minute later +came up the ladder.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Glad to see you, Barnes,” he hailed cheerily, +shaking hands with the young wireless operator. +“You didn’t wait for me at the village as agreed, +Mr. Mason,” he added, addressing Tom’s guest.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I fancied I had better come on ahead and +get an unprejudiced view of the proposition,” +observed Mr. Mason.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Strike you all right?” intimated the magnate +pleasantly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Capital,” answered the stranger with emphasis.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s good. Barnes, this is Mr. Mason, +inspector for the International Wireless Company, +of New York.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh,” said Tom, a little dubiously and a trifle +flustered.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I knew how you were interested in this wireless +business, Barnes,” resumed Mr. Morgan, +“and I spoke to my friend here of the independent +station you were running.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Which I wish to take into the service, you +included,” broke in Mr. Mason in a clear, +straightforward way. “I hear of some good +work you have done here. The location can +be made an important one, and, if you are ready +for it, I’ll talk business with you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“There is not much doubt about the utility +of the station here,” observed Mr. Morgan. +“Barnes saved me half my fortune through an +intercepted wireless. He has my unqualified +recommendation and support, Mr. Mason.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“So you told me,” returned the wireless professional +in a brusque, business-like way. “Practically +you own the apparatus here, Mr. Barnes?” +he questioned.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, sir,” announced Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Is there any lease on the site?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You mean the old tower here?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, sir. It belongs to the house that burned +down about a year ago, and is entirely out of +commission as a windmill.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I see.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“The man who owns the place gave Mr. +Edson full permission to use the old wreck free +of charge as long as he liked.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“The company would like a formal lease for +two years. Do you think you could arrange +that?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, yes, I am sure of it,” replied Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Very well. Offer him a trifle—say fifty dollars +for the term. Now then, as to your outfit +here. Would you be willing to turn over your +right and interest here to the company at a fair +price, in consideration of a contract for two years +establishing you here as their accredited operator?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom’s face changed to all colors. His eye +sparkled.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mr. Mason,” he said frankly, “you take my +breath away!”</p> +<p class="pnext">The wireless professional smiled indulgently. +Mr. Morgan rested a friendly, encouraging hand +on Tom’s shoulder.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The equipment here,” continued Mr. Mason, +making a swift mental calculation, “is not worth +a great deal. The installation, however, cost +something. I shall recommend the company to +offer you five hundred dollars for the outfit.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom gasped now. Business was business, and +he realized that the keen-faced man of affairs who +was talking to him was too shrewd to throw +anything away or buy a bad bargain. For all +that, he was fairly stunned at the good fortune +that had come to him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I will be glad to do as you suggest,” he said, +choked up from varied emotions.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good!” cried Mr. Mason. “The papers +will be sent to you soon as I can report to headquarters. +In the meantime, you can negotiate +for the lease we spoke about I will have a contract +forwarded to you, accompanying full instructions +as to your duties as our representative.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What will you pay Barnes?” inquired Mr. +Morgan, a practical business man on all occasions.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Sixty dollars a month,” was the reply.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Don’t fall off your chair, Barnes!” laughed +Mr. Morgan, “You’re going to reach bigger +things than that in the wireless line, I predict.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“There was one thing,” said Tom a little +anxiously; “I have a friend, a chum, who knows +almost as much as I do about the business.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Mr. Mason took out his memorandum book.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What is his name?” he inquired.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ben Dixon.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Very good. We’ll start him with a commission +as substitute and relief man. I intended +to send one of our men for the shift, but if you +think this young Dixon can do the work, I will +recommend him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am sure of it,” declared Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good-bye, Barnes,” said Mr. Morgan, as he +and his companion prepared to leave the tower. +“I have a little something I wish to add to your +bank account when you come up to the house +again.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Please don’t mention such a thing, Mr. Morgan,” +pleaded Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“And, remember, call on me as a ready friend +whenever I can help you in any way,” went on +the gentleman; and then he and Mr. Mason +went away.</p> +<p class="pnext">“My!” was all Tom could say when he returned +to the tower, and flung himself into a chair +in a dazed, overwhelmed way. “My! it all seems +like a dream!”</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xiisun-moon-and-stars"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id13">CHAPTER XII—“SUN, MOON AND STARS”</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“The Mercedes in the lead,” announced Ben +Dixon.</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right,” returned Tom Barnes.</p> +<p class="pnext">The buzzer was going merrily; Tom was +on his professional mettle and thoroughly enjoying +himself. He was tallying off the information +shouted down in sections through the tower +skylight by his faithful assistant.</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben, astride a cross arm beam of the old windmill, +balanced an elongated telescope seaward +focussed on several yachts engaged in a race.</p> +<p class="pnext">It had been part of the day’s instructions received +that morning from headquarters for the +operators at Station Z to watch out and announce +the order in which the yachts passed Rockley +Cove. The information was wanted for newspapers +and persons interested at the starting point +of the race. The names and pennant colors of +the various craft had been furnished to Tom, +and Ben was able, with this basis to work from, +to report like an expert.</p> +<p class="pnext">“<em>Druid</em> second,” he announced sharply two +minutes later.</p> +<p class="pnext">The entire flotilla had passed within half an +hour, and Ben descended into the operating room.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That was easy and pleasant,” he observed.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say, Tom, we’ve got a dandy plant here, and +no mistake.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom replied by nodding in a gratified way, +and glancing with pride and approval at the well-ordered +equipment about him.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was now a duly authorized operator in +the service of the International Wireless Company. +Mr. Mason had carried out the plans +outlined during his original talk with Tom, and +that rising young wireless operator was now +working on instructions and a liberal salary, and +had over five hundred dollars in the bank.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mr. Morgan had insisted on Tom accepting +a check for two hundred dollars as a slight recognition +of his service in respect to the United +Calcium securities.</p> +<p class="pnext">What pleased Tom most of all, however, was +that he was given the privilege of employing +extra help when in his judgment the same was +required, and Ben was put in a way to earn many +a welcome dollar.</p> +<p class="pnext">Station Z was not in the regular service. It +was maintained by the International Wireless +Company as a sort of demonstration station. +The object was to do little commercial business, +but to pick up important messages sent in cases +of emergency. The purpose of the company was +to demonstrate to the general public the chance +utility of an isolated station.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom had paid Mr. Edson the hundred dollars, +he had secured the lease of the station site, +had returned to Harry Ashley the money borrowed +from him, and was a happy, hopeful enthusiast, +every day learning more and more concerning +the wonderful wireless.</p> +<p class="pnext">He sat back in his chair now, comfortable +and at ease, with the satisfaction of a person +understanding his business and doing his duty. +Ben swung back luxuriously in a hammock they +had rigged up in one corner of the room. The +sunshine was bright, the air balmy, the sea refreshingly +blue and cool looking, and both boys +enjoyed the acme of comfort and satisfaction.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I say, Tom,” began Ben lazily, after a spell +of indolent rest, “what about that letter? Did +you bring it?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh yes,” answered Tom, feeling in the pocket +of his coat. “Here it is.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben took a mussed-up envelope from the hand +of his chum. It was directed in crooked, printed +letters: “mister tom barns.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I found it stuck under our front door last +night, as I told you,” recounted Tom, and Ben +perused the enclosed sheet covered with straggling +words and sentences, and read it aloud:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +“Warnin to tom barns, keep yure own turtory,</div> +<div class="line"> +or it’l be the worst fer you and yer frens.</div> +<div class="line"> +sined: the Black Kaps.”</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">“Sort of blood-curdling, eh, Ben?” mused +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It don’t scare you one little bit?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not a particle.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What does it mean?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, Ben, the only way I can figure out, is +that the so-called Black Caps are in active operation +again.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Phew!” observed Ben, and fell into a prolonged +fit of musing. Both he and Tom were +quite familiar with the past operations of that +sinister concern. Like all country communities, +Rockley Cove had some undesirables. Over the +village line, in fact, between it and the residence +of the Morgans, was a little community of fishermen +whose social condition was not very high.</p> +<p class="pnext">One particular family with numerous branches +was quite notorious. The name was Barber, and +the younger members of the family constituted +an uncouth and troublesome set. They and some +neighboring lads formed what they called a secret society +called the “Black Caps.” They soon +became the terror of adjoining communities.</p> +<p class="pnext">Out of pure perversity they stole fishing nets +and tackle, robbed farmers’ hen roosts, and dismantled +yachts and yawls. When these pilferings +were brought home to them, they destroyed +fishing outfits, scuttled boats, and burned down +several haystacks. Six of them were finally arrested, +and among the witnesses against them +were Tom and Ben. The young desperadoes, +who had established a dead line over which few +Rockley Cove boys dared to venture, were locked +up in the county jail for thirty days and in addition +their parents had to pay fines for them.</p> +<p class="pnext">All this had happened about a year before +Station Z was started. The Black Caps had been +disrupted, it seemed, and Tom had heard little of +the Barbers for some time. If they continued +their former marauding course, it was in some +new territory, for they neither noticed nor molested +any more Rockley Cove boys or property.</p> +<p class="pnext">Now, however, the old-time tactics so common +in the past had been revived, it seemed, as witness +the warning note Tom had received. It +was over this that Ben was cogitating. Finally +Tom expressed an opinion.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I can’t account for any fresh antipathy on +the part of the Barbers,” he said, “unless it is +because they see me going down to Mr. Morgan’s +once or twice a week.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll bet that’s it,” exclaimed Ben. “You generally +take the cut inland near the settlement, +don’t you, Tom?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Nearly always.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That must be it, then. They think you are +sort of watching them—invading their territory, +as they call it. I don’t think, though, they would +cut up very rough with you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why not?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, Bill Barber said before he got out of +jail you had made up for telling what you had +to tell against him, by pleading with the judge +to let them off light for a first offence.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I shall not lose any sleep over the terrible +warning,” laughed Tom lightly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’d take the beach road when I went up to +see Grace Morgan, though, if I were you,” suggested +Ben. “Talking of something else, Tom, +have you said anything to Harry along the ‘Donner’ +line?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not a word. Our mysterious spook seems +to have given up his erratic messages.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That name, ‘Donner,’ struck Harry all of +a heap, just the same.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, he’s a fine fellow, and I’m not going +to pry into his secrets.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I wonder what old ‘Donner’ was after, anyhow?” observed +Ben, “with his mysterious ‘messages,’ +and his ‘thousand dollars.’”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And the boy with the sun, moon and stars +on his left shoulder,” smiled Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">No orders had come to Station Z for work +that night, and at five o’clock the boys locked up +the tower. They parted when they reached the +village, Ben taking the road south and Tom proceeding +homeward alone.</p> +<p class="pnext">He was up in his room changing his working +clothes, when his mother appeared at the bottom +of the stairs to tell him that Ben Dixon was on +the telephone.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ben wants you to call him up before you go +out to-night,” advised Mrs. Barnes.</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right,” sang down Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">He forgot all about Ben when he came downstairs, +full of his plans for the evening. Grace +Morgan had invited him down to Fernwood, so +Tom had asked his mother to give him an early +supper. Then, in the bustle of getting a lift as +far as the crossroads in a passing rig, he left the +house in a great hurry, and never thought of +his chum again until he left the wagon.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I won’t go back,” decided Tom. “It can’t +be anything very particular Ben wants to see me +about. I’ve got plenty of time, too, and can +stroll around his way before I go to see Grace.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom passed down the winding road, but on +the way ringing boyish shouts beyond a thicket +caused him to deviate from his course. As he +came to where a fringe of shrubbery lined the +banks of Silver Brook, he nearly ran into a man +who stood peering past them at a merry group +of boys sporting in the sparkling waters of the +stream.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was so much that was ill-favored in +the face of the man, something so sinister in his +pose, that it suggested to Tom the lurker with +a purpose. Tom halted and regarded the man +closely. Then he peered past him at the group +sporting in the water.</p> +<p class="pnext">Their leader was Harry Ashley, and he was +in great evidence. At just that moment he was +giving them a specimen of rapid hand over hand +water climbing. His admiring friends cheered +as Harry made a marvelous dash of some fifty +yards, described a disappearing dive with wonderful +dexterity, and, coming to the surface, landed +on a rock not twenty feet away from the +observing stranger and Tom, and stood shaking +the water from hair and face.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ah-h!” suddenly exclaimed the strange man, +craning his neck, losing his balance, falling flat; +and then, discovering Tom, he scowled at him, +and suddenly disappeared in the underbrush.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The mischief!” ejaculated Tom, as he too +glanced at Harry.</p> +<p class="pnext">The back of the latter was towards him. Tom +experienced a queer thrill as he saw what the +stranger had also seen.</p> +<p class="pnext">Upon Harry Ashley’s left shoulder, plainly +tattooed, was a sun, a moon and some stars!</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xiiithe-black-caps"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id14">CHAPTER XIII—THE BLACK CAPS</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Harry Ashley, all unconscious of the fact +that he was under inspection from others than +his aquatic comrades, gave a yell and dove away +from the rock.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Here’s something to think about!” said Tom +in startled wonderment. “Ben was right—Harry +is a boy with a mystery, just as he said.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom’s first impulse was to advance among the +noisy crowd of swimmers, or linger under cover +and intercept Harry when he started for home, +and challenge him for some explanation.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then it occurred to him that he had no right +to pry into Harry’s secrets. At first the case +looked strange and grave. At second thought, +however, it occurred to Tom that the discovery +of the fact that a man whom they called “Donner” +was supposedly seeking a certain Ernest +Warren, and that Harry Ashley fitted into the +affair because he had tattooed marks on his back, +was not such an important circumstance after all.</p> +<p class="pnext">Presumably this wireless operator was the +man whose five hundred dollars Harry had accidentally +burned up. This set Tom thinking on a +new tack.</p> +<p class="pnext">“‘Donner’ is certainly very anxious to find +Harry, if he really is this Ernest Warren,” mused +Tom. “He seems willing to pay money to find +him. What for—to punish him? Hardly. Then +something of importance may have happened to +change the face of affairs, and if this would be +of any benefit to Harry he ought to know about +it. I know what I’ll do—I’ll get down and tell +Ben what I have discovered, and we’ll decide +together what is best to do in the case.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom started to leave the spot. He glanced +all about for some trace of the sinister appearing +lurker he had seen watching the swimmers, but +found none.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Maybe I am just imagining that fellow was +particularly interested in Harry,” ruminated Tom. +“He is probably some strolling tramp, and was +casually watching those antics in the water.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom glanced at his watch. It was two miles +over to the Dixon place. It was fast getting on +to dusk. Tom calculated that he would reach +the farm by dusk, have half an hour to spare with +Ben, and reach the Morgan mansion by eight +o’clock. He had changed his plans since leaving +home, his original purpose being to arrive before +nightfall at the Morgan home while there was +enough daylight left to play a game of tennis +with Grace.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was a short cut to the Dixon place by taking +a road through the woods, and Tom kept on +planning how he would utilize the moments until +he reached Fernwood, and anticipating the usual +pleasant time he always had with pretty Grace +Morgan. He was just thinking how happily +and usefully life was rounding out for him, when +there came an abrupt interruption to his pleasing +reverie.</p> +<p class="pnext">Just as he was passing a thick copse where the +road turned and high trees on either side shut the +highway into dimness and obscurity, there was a +rustle in the underbrush.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Halt!”</p> +<p class="pnext">A form stepped into view suddenly. It was +that of a boy. In his hand he poised a long pole +sharpened at the end. This he directed straight +at Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Halt!”</p> +<p class="pnext">A second figure came quite as magically into +view. Then a third, a fourth, a fifth and sixth, +and the astounded Tom stared vaguely at a +perfect circle formed about him by the sextette.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why,” he began, turning in a ring and discovering +that each one of the group wore a sable-lined +hood over his head with slits cut in for eyes, +nose and mouth, “I understand now—the Black +Caps.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s right,” responded a voice from behind +one of the masks, disguised into great gruffness. +“March!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“March where?” demanded Tom, a half +amused smile on his face.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Don’t fool,” spoke a second voice quickly. +“Get him under cover.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, someone may come along,” spoke another +of the masked crowd.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Now!”</p> +<p class="pnext">The leader of the gang gave the order. His +coterie was well trained. To a man they dropped +their spears to the ground, and made a general +rush for Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hold on, Bill Barber!” said Tom, as he was +seized by five pairs of sturdy hands.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Bill Barber isn’t here,” declared the former +gruff voice.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What do you want of me, whoever you are?” +demanded Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You come along and see.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I will not,” retorted Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">He struck out with his fists and laid two of +his assailants low. They were promptly on their +feet. Then the united strength of the group was +exerted to seize and throw our hero down. He +found his arms and feet securely bound by strong +ropes.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Someone is coming,” spoke one of the crowd +sharply.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Rush him,” ordered the leader.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom set up a loud shout.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The gag,” came the quick command.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom’s outcry was hushed in an instant by the +application of an elastic band fastened to a padded +stick, which was tightly pressed between his +lips. He was lifted bodily and carried away +from the road just as a wagon rattled past the +spot where he had been confronted by the gang.</p> +<p class="pnext">The members spoke not a word as, bodily lifting +their captive, they bore him helpless on their +shoulders through the woods. They proceeded +a quarter of a mile, finally halting at a low structure +which Tom recognized.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was the abandoned hut of a man who had +passed a hermit-like existence in the densest part +of a thicket. Tom was carried inside and placed +on the broken floor of the hut, which was covered +with dead leaves.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s the orders, chief?” asked one of the +crowd.</p> +<p class="pnext">A whispered reply that Tom could not over-hear +led to five of the party filing out of the hut +like trained soldiers. The sixth, the leader, remained +behind for half a minute.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’re coming back soon,” he said. “We’ll +bring a skull and cross bones when we do. If +you’ll swear on ’em never to cross our dead line +again, maybe we’ll leave you go this time. If +you don’t——”</p> +<p class="pnext">The speaker aspirated a long low hiss and +ground his teeth tragically. Then he, too, disappeared.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom had ample time for reflection as he lay +alone in the darkness. He could not figure out +what the Black Caps were up to. The whole +proceeding was freakish, and carried along in the +most heroic style of juvenile roysterers aping +pirates and outlaws; yet Tom believed there was +some definite motive underlying it all. What it +was he could not at the moment decide.</p> +<p class="pnext">A half hour passed by. The Black Caps had +apparently retired to a distance. Then the crackling +of dry twigs outside the hut announced the +approach of someone.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hello, there, Tom Barnes!” spoke the owner +of a head thrust past the open doorway.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom at once identified the tones. They belonged +to Mart Walters.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xivturning-the-tables"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id15">CHAPTER XIV—TURNING THE TABLES</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“This is getting interesting—I think I am beginning +to understand this affair,” murmured +Tom amid his helpless discomfort.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mart Walters stepped into the hut. He felt +about with his feet, and even groped with his +hands. As one toe touched the prostrate Tom +the visitor came to a stop.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’ll have a little light on the subject,” he +observed, drawing out a cigar lighter. Mart +fancied it was “mannish” and grand to exhibit +this appurtenance when he lit a cigarette. He +snapped a light and held the flame over Tom. +Then he extinguished it, and stooping unsnapped +the gag from the captive’s lips, letting it drop +under his chin.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mart had not spoken to Tom since the day of +the ducking at the creek. Twice Tom had met +him in Rockley Cove, and had nodded to him +pleasantly. This courtesy had been rewarded +with a malevolent scowl. It was evidently still +in the mind of our hero’s enemy to “get even” +with him.</p> +<p class="pnext">More than once Tom had seen Mart on the +Fernwood pier or in the powerful launch with the +elegant young swell, Bert Aldrich. Several evenings +Tom had passed at the Morgan mansion at +little social gatherings of Miss Grace and her +friends. On these occasions, however, Aldrich +and his satellite had made a point to cut Tom +direct. Tom had not minded this in the least, +for Grace had laughed outright at such ridiculous +manœuvres.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom now instantly made up his mind that the +present episode had something to do with his +visits to Grace. Mart was not above mean plotting, +and his supercilious friend, Bert Aldrich, +had always struck Tom as an unpleasant cad.</p> +<p class="pnext">“There’s only just about five minutes to spare, +Tom Barnes,” spoke Mart smartly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“For what?” demanded Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“For me to save you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What from?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“The Black Caps.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You train with them, do you?” interrogated +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Who, me? No, indeed!” answered Mart. +“It’s this way: I’m your friend.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Go ahead, Mart.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“The Barbers don’t like you any too well. +They think the best way they can beat your game +is to keep you from coming here.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Coming where?” challenged Tom specifically.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, down to the Morgan place. They +don’t want you sneaking around anywhere near +them.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, that’s it, is it?” observed Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I overheard their talk. They’ve gone to +get some tar and feathers. They’re going to +muss you up bad. I know them pretty well.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I see you do,” remarked Tom, significantly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, I don’t mean that I chum with them, or +anything like that,” corrected Mart, in a flustered +manner. “But, I have—why, well—influence, +that’s it, with them. Then again, I’m interested +personally.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How are you interested?” inquired Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, I’ll just be plain with you. My friend, +Bert Aldrich, is sweet on Grace Morgan, and +you’ve spoiled it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Indeed,” said Tom simply.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He thinks you have prejudiced Grace against +him, and he’s mad as a hatter about it. See here, +she isn’t your class. You know she ain’t—half +a million, classy family. Why, you’re poor. +Then again, she’s going south soon, and when +she gets into society she’ll have to meet Bert and +his family, and take up with him again—see?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Get along, Mart,” railed Tom, “you’re +progressing finely.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll save you from the Black Caps if you’ll +agree to keep away from Grace Morgan. +There’s the straight of it. What do you say?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I say no,” responded Tom promptly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You won’t do it?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hardly.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’ll be sorry.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Suppose—suppose Bert gives you fifty dollars, +will you keep away?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say, Mart,” observed Tom, quietly, but with +force, “you’re too cheap. Grace Morgan is +worth a million, if she is worth a cent. You +can’t scare me off nor buy me off. She’s a dear +little lady, my good friend, and I wouldn’t give +up her company under any circumstances as long +as my coming seems to please her.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Rot you!” shouted Mart, fairly infuriated +at the failure of his cherished schemes. “I’ve +a good mind to kick you. I’ll do it, yes, I +will——”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Stop there, you miserable scamp!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Let go!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Speak another word, and I’ll half choke the +life out of you!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ben!” murmured Tom gratefully.</p> +<p class="pnext">A form had flashed through the doorway. +There was the sound of a struggle, a thud, as +Mart Walters’ body struck the floor.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m sitting on him, Tom,” announced the newcomer. +“Lie still, or I’ll knock you silly. +Where’s that gag, Tom? I’ve got it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom felt the hand of his friend grope in the +dark and remove the gag from under his chin. +Then, from the squirmings and splutterings of +Mart, he knew that Ben had silenced him effectually. +Next, Ben whipped out his pocket knife, +and the ropes holding Tom a prisoner were +severed.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Trim and tidy,” reported the diligent Ben +as he helped Tom to his feet. “I’ve gagged +him and tied him for keeps. Come outside.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, how in the world did you happen to +come along in the nick of time?” propounded +Tom, wonderingly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Never mind that now. You do just what I +tell you to do. You were bound for Morgan’s?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Get there, then. I’ll come along a little later. +I’ve got something else to do hereabouts.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“But Mart, here?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“He’ll be taken care of, never fear,” retorted +Ben with a chuckle.</p> +<p class="pnext">“And the Black Caps?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You forget all about it till I see you later,” +insisted Ben. “There will be quite a story to tell. +Don’t spoil it by hanging around here. I know +my business. Go along.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom did as directed. He could guess that +there was some motive in his chum’s insistence. +He rearranged his disordered attire, left the spot, +and half an hour later had followed Ben’s directions, +having indeed forgotten everything except +that he was seated on the Morgan porch with +charming Grace as his companion.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What is that?” exclaimed Grace suddenly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom arose quickly to his feet at the startling +inquiry. The light from the front rooms illumined +the porch, but beyond the shadows were +vague and dim. Amid these, Tom, peering, discerned +some bustling forms.</p> +<p class="pnext">He moved towards the button controlling the +electric lights at either side of the pillars at the +steps. Just as he pressed it, ear-splitting sounds +rang out.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The Black Caps!” exclaimed Tom, as he +recognized his recent persecutors.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, what are they here for?” cried Grace, +timidly clinging to Tom’s arm.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Fire him, men!”</p> +<p class="pnext">A struggling form in the grasp of the six +young outlaws was forcibly propelled forward, +landed on the porch steps and rolled over on +the gravel walk.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Cut for it!” came the sharp mandate.</p> +<p class="pnext">The Black Caps vanished as if by magic. Tom +stared hard. Grace, trembling with excitement, +gazed vaguely at the figure arising to its feet.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why,” she faltered, catching sight of the +terrified face of the unwilling visitor, “it is Mart +Walters!”</p> +<p class="pnext">It was Mart, indeed, and he was a sight. +From head to foot loose fluttering feathers waved +ghost-like in the night breeze. Mart was not +bound now, but the gag was still in his mouth. +He cast one appalled glance at Grace and Tom, +tore the gag loose and uttered a shrill yell of +rage and chagrin. Then, throwing his hands +above his head, he, too, disappeared.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What does it all mean, Tom?” quavered +Grace with a bloodless face. “There—there is +somebody else!”</p> +<p class="pnext">She shrank back anew with the words.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s all right,” Tom reassured her. “It is +Ben Dixon.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben, smothering a laugh, came up the steps, +lifting his cap and smiling, his eyes twinkling.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The biter bit, the tables turned, Miss Grace,” +he said.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ben, explain what it all means,” pleaded +Grace. “Tom won’t.”</p> +<div class="figure"> +<div class="align-center container image-wrapper"> +<img alt="images/illus-108.jpg" src="images/illus-108.jpg"/> +</div> +<div class="caption"> +“WHY,” SHE FALTERED, “IT IS MART WALTERS!”</div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">“It’s like him not to,” declared Tom’s staunch +chum. “I got a hint from a friend early in the +evening that the Barber boys were on the rampage. +I missed Tom by ’phone and started to +intercept him on his way here, when I ran across +the crowd talking with Mart Walters. I learned +the whole scheme, and followed Walters to a hut +where the gang had imprisoned Tom, and—well, +I set Tom free and tied and gagged Walters in +his place.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What for?” questioned Grace.</p> +<p class="pnext">“To give him a needed lesson,” answered +Ben promptly. “When the crowd returned +I suppose they had arranged if Walters didn’t +come back to them they were to ‘fix’ Tom, as +they called it. Two of them carried a feather +bed. Two others carried pails of soft soap. It +seemed they intended to use tar, but couldn’t get +any. They ripped open the bed, deluged Walters +with the soap, mistaking him for Tom, rolled +him in among the feathers, and—you saw him. +They never got onto the fact that it was the +fellow who had hired them who got the dose +they intended for Tom.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why did he hire them?” inquired Grace.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Because that Aldrich cad plotted with Walters +to scare Tom away from coming here to +see you,” explained Ben bluntly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Grace Morgan’s eyes flashed. A flush of real +anger came into her cheeks.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mart and Mr. Aldrich did that?” she cried. +“Oh, they shall never come into this house +again.” And on hearing this Tom Barnes felt +rewarded for all the tribulation he had gone +through that night.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xvan-unexpected-rescuer"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id16">CHAPTER XV—AN UNEXPECTED RESCUER</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“Have you spoken to Harry yet, Tom?” inquired +Ben, two days after the overturning of +the plots of Mart Walters and his city friend, +Bert Aldrich.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was the middle of the afternoon, and things +wireless had been slack at Station Z ever since +morning. Tom turned from his chair at the +window where he had been dreamily surveying +the open sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, Ben,” he replied a little gravely. “I +came near doing it last night, but I didn’t know +but it might worry him, or make him think I was +trying to pry into his personal business.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I tell you, Tom, I think Harry ought to be +told about the mysterious ‘Donner’ messages, +and asked to explain about the tattooed sun, +moon and stars on his left shoulder.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I fancy he’s about through with his task in +the pasture by now,” said Tom. “Supposing +you go up to the house, get him down here, and +we’ll try to introduce the subject so it won’t +frighten or bother him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right,” assented Ben with alacrity, and +was forthwith on his way.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom resumed his place at the window. His +back was to the road running up from the beach to +the village, and he was not aware of an unexpected +arrival from that direction until a man’s voice +sounding within the room hailed him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hey, boy, who’s in charge here?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am,” answered Tom, turning to confront +two men who in turn entered the tower by way +of the trap door. They were strangers in Rockley +Cove, and Tom did not at all like their looks. +The man who had accosted him had a sharp, hard +eye. His companion was furtive-faced, and suggested +a person constantly on the watch.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We want to send a message,” the former proceeded. +“In cypher.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Where to?” inquired Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The man pointed seawards.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“To a ship?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, to the <em>Councillor</em>, bound for Canada.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom shook his head discouragingly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You will have to go to Station O at Deepdale. +This is only a demonstration plant, and I +have no orders to take commercial business,” explained +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">The man drew out a pocketbook.</p> +<p class="pnext">“See here,” he said, “I’ll give you ten dollars +to send the message.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m sorry, but it’s against the rules.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Jackson, do it yourself,” spoke the other man +quickly, pressing close to his companion’s side.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m out of practice.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, you can manage it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hold on, there. I can’t allow any interference +with the apparatus here,” said Tom, stepping in +front of the first man as he started over towards +the operating table.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can’t, eh?” sneered the man. “Well, you’ll +have to. Keep him quiet, Griffin.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ve got him,” announced the man addressed.</p> +<p class="pnext">He had caught Tom by the wrist. As the latter +struggled to free himself, his captor dragged him +toward a closet in one corner of the room.</p> +<p class="pnext">Its door stood open. The closet was oak +framed, built into the wall of the room, and had a +stout door with a small circular slit in it. Mr. +Edson had utilized it to lock up things he did not +wish to leave lying around loose, when he left +the tower at night. Tom had used it as a storeroom +for surplus parts of the wireless outfit.</p> +<p class="pnext">It had a strong padlock. The man threw Tom +in roughly, secured the padlock, and then went +up to the table. His companion was closely inspecting +the apparatus.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m at home at the regular key,” he said. “I +don’t know whether I can work this, though.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Of course you can,” urged the other. “Get +ready. I’ve got the cypher key and the message +right here,” and he took two sheets of paper from +his pocket.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was helpless. He could not possibly +force the heavy door of the closet from its fastenings. +Shouting would do no good. If he attempted +it, his jailers would probably treat him +roughly, for they were vicious-looking fellows. +Tom hoped for the return of Ben and Harry, or +the arrival of someone else to interrupt the man +at the table. Meanwhile he was on the keen +alert as to all that individual was doing.</p> +<p class="pnext">The minute this man got his bearings, he +started in with confidence. Tom learned that he +was flashing a message to the steamer <em>Councillor</em>, +bound from New York to Halifax. In plain +English, the operator on the <em>Councillor</em> was instructed +to deliver a message to a passenger answering +to the name of Daniel Ritchie. The +message itself was a lot of private code-words, +utterly unintelligible to Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sender repeated the message and got up +from the table.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hit or miss, that is the best I can do,” he +remarked.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hit or miss, you’ve done all that could be +expected of you,” remarked his companion. +“What are you going to do with him?” questioned +the speaker, with a shrug of his shoulders +towards Tom’s place of imprisonment.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, leave him where he is. We want a start, +and someone will come along to let him out. So +long, son. You might have made ten dollars if +you’d saved me the trouble of showing you that +I’m some wireless myself.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Both men laughed coarsely and left the tower. +Tom knew it was futile to expect his liberty except +through the accidental visit of someone. He +contented himself by trying to recall what he could +remember of the message sent. He tried also +to figure out the motive for the men’s actions.</p> +<p class="pnext">“They have got word to someone aboard the +steamer <em>Councillor</em>,” mused Tom. “The trouble +they went to to do it looks suspicious and mysterious, +though. Hello!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom stared hard at the trap door opening. +Through it a head was protruded.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Anybody here?” its owner called out.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, I am here,” announced Tom, moving +his hand through the slit in the closet door.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tom Barnes!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s right.”</p> +<p class="pnext">And then Tom gave a start as he recognized his +unexpected visitor as Bill Barber, head of the +Black Caps.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xvikidnapped"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id17">CHAPTER XVI—KIDNAPPED</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“Let me out,” said Tom, rattling the closet +door.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Sure, how did you get in there?” asked Bill +Barber.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I was locked in.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Who by?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll tell you later. The key is in the padlock.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I see it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">There was nothing belligerent or threatening in +Bill’s behavior. On the contrary, he seemed +anxious to please Tom and glad to do him a favor. +This was so foreign to the usual attitude of the +Barber boy, that Tom was both astonished and +puzzled.</p> +<p class="pnext">He noticed casually that Bill seemed more +tidy than usual, and there was not so much of +the hang dog look about him as in the past.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Queer,” spoke Bill, staring perplexedly at +Tom as the latter stepped out into the room. +“You didn’t shut yourself up in there?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, I’ll tell you how it was soon. Thank +you, Bill, you’ve done me a big favor in coming +just when I needed help.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am glad,” voiced Bill, sententiously but +heartily.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ve something to do, so just sit down till +I get things to rights, will you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll do that, Tom.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill sat staring wonderingly at the wireless outfit. +He watched Tom flit about as might a +wizard among his trick apparatus. Tom flew to +the operating table. He knew that somehow irregular +work had been done by his two recent +visitors. He wondered if he could head off the +design they had in view, and was intent on getting +word to headquarters.</p> +<p class="pnext">Just ready to flash the signal, however, Tom +ran over to a corner of the room and picked up a +crumpled wad of paper. As he opened it, revealing +two sheets, and reviewed their contents, he knew +that he had discovered something worth while.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The cypher message and the key to it,” exclaimed +Tom eagerly. “Those fellows got what +they came after and carelessly dropped these. +Now to figure it out.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom ran his eyes first over one sheet and then +the other. The cypher message dovetailed with +words he had heard the surreptitious operator +use. With a pencil he wrote the words out with +the help of the key. This was the result:</p> +<blockquote><div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +“Leave the steamer before arrival at Halifax,</div> +<div class="line"> +as New York police have telegraphed there to</div> +<div class="line"> +arrest you.”</div> +</div> +</div></blockquote> +<p class="pfirst">“I see it all as clear as daylight,” murmured +Tom. “The two men who imprisoned me are +warning a friend, a criminal confederate. I’ll +block the game.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was busy at the transmitter for the next +half hour. He flashed a message to the <em>Councillor</em>, +informing the captain that the passenger, +Daniel Ritchie, had received a wireless message +irregularly, and to prevent him from leaving the +ship until he reported to the police at Halifax.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then Tom sent a message to headquarters explaining +the entire proceedings of the past hour, +giving his construction of the episode, and advising +an immediate report to the New York police +authorities.</p> +<p class="pnext">Pretty tired from his activities, he now sat +down in a chair. He had to smile as he observed +the face of Bill Barber. The latter sat like one +entranced over the manipulation the wireless outfit +had undergone.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say,” he bolted out in mingled awe and +admiration, “you know how to do things with +that queer contrivance, don’t you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom briefly explained some of the minutiæ of +the wireless and had an ardent listener. When +he had concluded he intimated pleasantly:</p> +<p class="pnext">“And how did you chance to come along just +when I needed you, Bill?”</p> +<p class="pnext">The Barber boy at once looked serious. A +furtive embarrassed expression came into his face.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s it,” he mumbled, “I came to tell you, +Tom, you see?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“To tell me what, Bill?” asked Tom encouragingly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“About that tar and feather business. I had +nothing to do with it, Tom, honest Injun.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Who said you did, Bill?” propounded Tom, +smiling.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll bet you thought it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, wasn’t it quite natural I should?” inquired +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, sir!” declared Bill, quite indignantly, +“I wouldn’t play a mean trick like that on you, +Tom Barnes. I’ve got nothing against you. In +fact, ever since you spoke up for me at the trial, +I’ve—well, Tom,” stammered Bill, a little sheepishly, +“I’ve tried to remember what you said +about giving me a chance to make a man of myself, +and I—I hope I’m doing it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good for you, Bill Barber!” cried Tom +heartily. “I’m proud of you, to hear you talk +like that.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It was some of my old gang hired out to +trim you. I’ve thrashed the whole kit of them +for doing it, and they won’t trouble you again, +never fear.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’re a good friend, Bill,” declared Tom. +“Did you say you were working?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, but not steady,” answered Bill. “I get +odd jobs running small launches for the resorters +down at Sea Grove. Had a trip or two for that +young Boston cad, who is hanging around with +Mart Walters. Huh! he brags about what lots +of money he’s got, and he hasn’t paid me for my +work yet. I’ll get it, though, or take it out of +his hide,” declared Bill, ominously. “I say, Tom, +he’s a bad one, and Mart Walters is worse. Look +out for them.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I shall, Bill, and thank you for your good +wishes and help. Any time I can return the favor +call on me as a real friend.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill Barber departed with a pleased face, and +Tom was not sorry for the chance to help a fellow +whom he decided had lots of good in him, if +rightly encouraged.</p> +<p class="pnext">In about half an hour a message came from +headquarters. It had the “sine” of the superintendent.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good work,” it commended. “Parties interested notified. +Man on steamer fugitive forger +wanted by the Government. Probably a reward case.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom felt that he was progressing finely in his +work. So far, application and straightforward +devotion to duty had enabled him to perform his +duties without a censure, and to avoid snares set +for his downfall.</p> +<p class="pnext">He was glad when Ben appeared, for Tom was +full of the theme of the hour, and his chum and +assistant was a good listener. Something in Ben’s +face checked the welcome rising to Tom’s lips, +however, and he eyed Ben keenly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Something wrong,” reported Ben, looking +pale and breathing hard as if he had been running +fast.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Where—how?” propounded Tom quickly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“At the farm—Harry.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What do you mean?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Harry is in trouble of some kind. I hurried +to tell you. Tom, Harry has disappeared.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You don’t mean for good?” exclaimed Tom +seriously.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I don’t know, but he’s been kidnapped.”</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xviiup-to-mischief"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id18">CHAPTER XVII—UP TO MISCHIEF</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“Kidnapped!” repeated Tom, quite startled.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” declared Ben. “That much is sure.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Did you see Harry?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, but others did. When I went after him +your father told me that Harry was grubbing out +some brush in the old pasture lot. I went down +there. The hoe he had been using was lying on +the ground. His coat was hanging on the fence, +but no Harry. I walked out beyond the fence to +look around for him, and near the big gate was +his cap, all tramped down in the mud. The +ground looked as if there had been a scuffle.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“This all sounds pretty strange,” commented +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I was standing wondering what next to do, +when the old lady who lives near your house +came over to me. She asked me whom I was +looking for, and when I told her she said that +about an hour before two men, strangers to her, +had driven up in a covered wagon. They halted +outside of the pasture lot. One of them stayed +in the wagon. The other man went up to Harry +and engaged him in conversation. He seemed to +induce him by some argument or other to go out +to the wagon. Once there, the woman said, the +man tried to force Harry to go with them. He +must have refused, for there was a scuffle, and the +men threw Harry into the wagon and drove off +with him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Did you tell my father?” inquired Tom, arising +to his feet in a state of deep anxiety and +excitement.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I ran to a field where some men were working. +They told me that your father had gone to +Westport with a load of hay. Then I ran here to +tell you about it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ben, we must do something about this at +once! You must stay here in charge.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I will, Tom. What do you suppose those +men carried Harry away for?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“This is no time to lose in theorizing. I have +my ideas, but never mind them now. I will hurry +home and start a chase after him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom lost no time. He gave Ben a few instructions, +and then hastened homewards on a +run. Within half an hour he was mounted on +a horse, and following the main road west in +the direction the kidnappers had taken. He had +made a brief explanation to one of his father’s +field hands, and the man was started on horseback +down the branching road.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom stopped at half a dozen farm houses and +made inquiries, but found no one who had seen +a wagon pass answering to his description. He +reached in turn three small settlements, met with +no success in his quest, and turned around and +made for home, disappointed and concerned, but +hoping that the hired man had met with better +luck.</p> +<p class="pnext">His messenger, however, had not returned, he +found when he reached the farm. There was +an hour of anxious waiting. Finally the man +rode up.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What news?” inquired Tom eagerly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I traced the wagon five miles,” reported the +man, “lost it at the crossroads, and couldn’t get +the trail again.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom hurried to the telephone and called up +every exchange within a radius of twenty miles, +explaining briefly but clearly what he wanted.</p> +<p class="pnext">“About all you can do is to wait, Tom,” said +his mother, who tried to conceal her solicitude +for the missing boy.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It seems to me those men cannot get through +the network of people watching out for them,” +spoke Tom. “I must do all I can, though, myself, +for Harry.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Our hero started off again on horseback. He +took another route this time. It was seven o’clock +when he got back home again. No trace of the +kidnappers had been reported.</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben had locked up at the tower, and was waiting +for Tom at the Barnes’ home in a great state +of impatience. Tom, after reporting to his +mother, called his chum outside.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ben,” he said, “I got a description of one +of the men who drove the wagon, and I know +who he is.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You do?” exclaimed Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes—the man I told you about seeing, the +day Harry was in swimming, and I discovered +the tattoo marks on his shoulder.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You don’t say so!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am pretty sure of it,” declared Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That being true, it connects with the ‘Donner’ +business!” cried Ben. “The sun, moon and +stars message.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Perhaps. If Harry is really the Ernest Warren +they have been telegraphing about, someone +was trying to find him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And they’ve done it, and gotten him!” cried +Ben excitedly. “We’ll never see him again, and +we’ll never know the mystery about him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You give up too easily, Ben,” said Tom, and +then he hastened to meet his father, who at that +moment drove into the farm yard.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mr. Barnes was a peculiar man. He was wilful +and went to extremes where his likes and dislikes +were involved. He had taken a great fancy to +the busy, buoyant lad he had hired, and at once +manifested the deepest interest in the particulars +of the strange disappearance of Harry Ashley.</p> +<p class="pnext">He turned his horses directly around and drove +to the village. When he returned, he told Tom +he had got a local constable to start at once and +try to get some trace of the missing boy.</p> +<p class="pnext">With that move all were forced to be content. +Ben stayed at Tom’s house all night, and the boys +remained up late, hoping some word might come. +The captors of Harry, however, seemed to have +well planned their flight, for at the crossroads +all trace of them had disappeared.</p> +<p class="pnext">The next day went by with no report as to the +fate of Harry. Tom and Ben took turns till +late in the afternoon spelling one another in visits +to the house, anxious and eager to hear some +word about their missing comrade.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’ll just have to wait,” concluded Ben, as +they locked up the tower that evening. “You +see——”</p> +<p class="pnext">There Ben suddenly interrupted himself. He +halted, drawing Tom also to a dead stop.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s the matter, Ben?” inquired Tom in +some surprise.</p> +<p class="pnext">“S—sh! Ambush.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Don’t be mysterious, Ben,” began Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then, following the indication of the pointed +finger of his companion, Tom became as much +startled and interested as his chum.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was a dense stretch of wild rose bushes +on a sandy hill about fifty yards distant from the +tower. Protruding from these, plainly visible, +was a pair of human feet.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Some one spying on us,” declared Ben in a +quivering whisper. The air had been so full of +mystery the past few days that Ben traced its +continuance in any unusual happening.</p> +<p class="pnext">“More like a sleepy tramp,” observed Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Find out, will you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I intend to.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom picked up a heavy stick, advanced quietly +to the bushes, and brought it down with a force +of a policeman’s club directly across the flat soles +presented.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Thunder!”</p> +<p class="pnext">The owner of the shoes leaped to his feet with +a vivid exclamation.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, it’s you, Bill?” spoke Tom instantly. +“What in the world have you got here?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Peering past Bill Barber, Tom observed a +double-barreled shotgun where he had been lying +down. Ben looked dreadfully suspicious. Bill +flushed and stammered.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, just hunting,” he spoke evasively.</p> +<p class="pnext">“In that bunch of brush?” laughed Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">Then, placing a rallying hand on Bill’s shoulder, +he added: “Out with it, Bill, what are you up +to?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill’s lips came grimly together.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You won’t interfere with me, if I tell?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why should I?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, then, I’m watching your station here.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What for?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Visitors.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Indeed?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Trespassers, vandals, I had better say,” went +on Bill. “See here, I’m laying for somebody, +partly for you, partly because I am interested +myself. Tom Barnes, I want you to go straight +home and leave me to my own affairs. You’ve +got enough confidence in me to believe that I +wouldn’t harm you or your friends or your wireless, +haven’t you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“There’s my answer,” said Tom promptly.</p> +<p class="pnext">As he spoke he extended the key to the trap +door.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No,” dissented Bill, “I don’t need that, but +thank you just the same. The fellows I’ve got +a tip about won’t get as far as the tower.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You won’t hurt anybody, Bill?” questioned +Tom gravely, with a glance at the shotgun.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, but I’ll teach them a lesson they won’t +forget for a long time to come,” was Bill Barber’s +significant reply.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xviiithe-toy-balloons"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id19">CHAPTER XVIII—THE TOY BALLOONS</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“There’s another one—that makes six.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Six what, Ben?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Balloons.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom walked to the window where Ben had +been sitting, looked at the sky, made out a tiny +blue dot sailing aerially seawards, and observed:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, you mean toy balloons?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes. There must be a picnic somewhere. +Funny thing, too. I noticed they all had a card or +a tag attached to the trailing strings.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Perhaps it is some advertising stunt,” suggested +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">He resumed the reading of a technical wireless +book he had received from New York, while Ben +continued idly looking from the tower window.</p> +<p class="pnext">Affairs at Station Z had settled down to routine. +They had learned no results as yet from +the mysterious appearance of Bill Barber at the +tower the evening before. Suddenly Ben broke +out with the words:</p> +<p class="pnext">“There comes Bill Barber, now.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom awaited the appearance of the former +captain of the Black Caps with some curiosity. +He pointed to a chair as the Barber boy came up +through the trap door.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s the news, Bill?” inquired Tom casually.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill’s broad mouth expanded Into a grin. He +chuckled serenely.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Haven’t heard anything about last night?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not a word.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You will if you go down Fernwood way.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Indeed?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, there’s two fellows keeping themselves +mighty scarce. When they walk they wobble, +and when they talk they squabble.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Do I happen to know the parties?” inquired +Tom, but already guessing their identity.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I reckon you do,” answered Bill. “Making +no bones about it, the fellows are Mart Walters +and Bert Aldrich.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I thought so,” put in Ben. “They were up +to tricks, were they?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“They were up to queering you fellows,” replied +Bill, “and I learned of it. I knew yesterday +they were coming down here after dark to +wreck your wireless plant. I owed that cad, +Aldrich, something, and I reckoned to pay off +two scores at one and the same time. I lay in +wait.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And they showed up?” inquired the interested +Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, about nine o’clock. They tried to get +up through the trap door, me watching them. +They couldn’t make it, and then they went down +to the beach and got an armful of big flat stones. +Aldrich was to go up that tree yonder and Mart +was to pass up the stones to him. He calculated +to throw through the tower windows and smash +your outfit.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I see you didn’t let them, Bill,” suggested +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not I. Both barrels of the shotgun were +loaded to the muzzle with pepper and salt. Just +as they got under the tree I let both triggers go. +It took them around the knees.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I hope you didn’t cripple them,” said Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, they could walk,” replied Bill with a +guffaw,—“just walk. I understand that Aldrich +has thrown up his hands and is going to call the +game closed.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What do you mean?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“He’s going back to Boston some time between +now and to-morrow night. I guess Miss Morgan +has turned the cold shoulder on him. Well, he’s +a good one if he gets away with the eleven dollars +and seventy-five cents he owes me for work on +the yacht, and good hard work at that.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill Barber hung around for about an hour. +He seemed to be glad of an excuse to visit the +tower. He was mightily interested in the wireless +outfit, and he seemed pleased to be in Tom’s +company.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Bill is not so bad a fellow after all,” remarked +Ben, as their visitor departed. “What a shame! +that Aldrich, with all the money he brags about, +cheating him out of his honest wages.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think Bill is likely to get it,” said Tom. +“He is a determined and a dangerous fellow, +too, when he is once aroused.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I can see that,” replied Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He has proven himself a good friend to us,” +observed Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Grace Morgan doesn’t seem to have much +use for Aldrich. I suppose he’ll try to break in +and bid her good-by. I hear she is going away +for a month or two.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“She has gone already,” said Tom, with a +conscious flush.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, is that so?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, she left for Albion this morning, where +her aunt resides. They take the steamer <em>Olivia</em> +this evening down the coast. They are going to +a Virginia Summer resort.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You seem pretty well informed as to Miss +Morgan’s movements,” observed Ben with a wink.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, yes, I saw her last evening,” replied +Tom. “We are very good friends, you know, +and I am naturally interested in her plans.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom did not tell his chum that in his breast +pocket reposed a dainty little card bearing the +southern address of Grace, nor that she had +made him promise to write her often about the +progress he made with “that delightful wireless.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I say, there is another one of those balloons,” +exclaimed Ben suddenly; “a red one this time. +She’s lighting. No, she isn’t. Yes, she is, but +in the water. Tom, I’m curious about the tags +all of those balloons seem to have attached to +them; I’m going to make a try to get one.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben bolted from the tower. Tom went to the +window to watch his manœuvres. Ben reached +the shingly beach, and was reaching out into the +water with a long tree branch, trying to hook in +the now exhausted balloon without getting his +feet wet.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He’s got it,” tallied Tom, keeping track of +his movements. “Well,” he inquired a minute +later, as Ben reappeared in the tower, “what +does it amount to?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“There has been some pencilled writing on the +back of the tag,” explained Ben, “but the water +has blurred it out.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Whose tag is it?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tom,” said Ben, “what do you think? It’s +one of your own cards!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mine?” exclaimed Tom in surprise.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes—look at it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom took the soaked piece of cardboard. He +regarded it in some wonder.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, Ben,” he said finally, “you are quite +right. This is one of the cards I printed when I +went into the amateur printing line last Summer.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I knew I’d seen it or its like before,” observed +Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s strange,” ruminated Tom, turning the +card over and over in his hand in a puzzled way. +“Say, though,” he cried with a quick start, “I +gave a lot of those cards to Harry Ashley.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“When?” asked Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Last week. I was cleaning up my desk at +the house, and threw away about two hundred of +them as useless into the waste basket. Harry +picked them up and asked for them.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And you gave them to him?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s it. He said one side was blank, and +he liked to carry something with him he could +scribble on when he took the fancy.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, then,” declared Ben, getting very much +excited, “that card comes from Harry!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It looks that way,” admitted Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Of course that is it,” insisted Ben. “It’s +Harry who has been sending up those balloons.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“But how could he do that?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“There’s the mystery, like all the mysteries +we’ve been running across lately,” said Ben. +“Don’t you see, Tom, he had some writing on the +back of those cards?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s all washed out now.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, I see it is. See here, he is in trouble +somewhere, and trying to send us word. Don’t +you think we had better get out and try and find +some balloon that has dropped on land, or chase +one and run it down?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, that might be a good way,” replied +Tom slowly, as though he was thinking deeply on +some matter. “But perhaps we can do it easier.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“By trying to decipher the writing on this +card.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“But you can’t!” exclaimed Ben half impatiently, +as he held up the dripping pasteboard. +“You can’t read it. Try for yourself. Might +as well try to read in the dark.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I know you can’t read it now,” assented Tom, +“for the water has about soaked off the black +marks of the pencil. But there may be a way of +bringing back the writing.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How? Do you think Harry used some kind +of invisible ink? I’ve read of prisoners sending +secret messages to their friends written with some +chemical that would not show unless it was heated, +or something like that. Say!” he cried with sudden +interest, “do you mean that way, Tom?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, no, not exactly. Harry didn’t use ink. +He used a common lead pencil, from all appearances, +and the water has soaked the black marks +off. But you know when you use a pencil on paper, +it always makes little depressions in the surface, +corresponding to the shape of the letters. Did +you ever put a piece of paper on top of another +piece, and write on the top sheet?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Of course I have.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Then you’ve probably noticed that on the +second sheet there would be marks by which the +writing could be read, even though the black pencil +characters did not show.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Of course. I see what you mean.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I thought you would. I mean to dry out this +card, and then, in a good light, we ought to be able +to tell what the marks are. In that way we can +decipher what Harry wrote even though the black +marks are gone.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good! Let’s do it. That’s easier than chasing +after a balloon. Here, I’ll dry the card.”</p> +<p class="pnext">He reached for it, and approached the window +on the sill of which the sun just then shone +brightly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s it!” cried Tom. “Meanwhile I’ll get +out a magnifying glass to use on the card when it’s +dry. With that we ought to be able to read what +it says, even if the impressions are very faint.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say, there’s class to us all right,” observed +Ben with a laugh. “Maybe we can get a job +somewhere, reading secret messages for the government. +That would be excitement, and——”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Here’s some new excitement,” announced +Tom, with a glance from the window.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Wonder what’s up now?” speculated Ben, +as he too took a look. “It’s Bill Barber come +back, and he’s making for here on the run.”</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xixa-startling-message"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id20">CHAPTER XIX—A STARTLING MESSAGE</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“I’ve come back again,” announced the Barber +boy, bursting upon Tom and Ben breathlessly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I see you have,” said Tom pleasantly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Got something to show you. Maybe it’s not +important, but I thought it was, so I hurried +here.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You are doing me a lot of favors, Bill,” said +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Glad to,” declared Bill. “Here it is,” and +he extended a wrinkled-up object as he spoke.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why,” cried Ben, peering curiously, “it’s +another of those toy balloons!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” assented Bill. “They’ve been flying +around half the morning. After I left here I ran +across a crowd of youngsters chasing two sailing +aloft. One of the boys had a bow and arrow, and +was trying to hit one and bring it down. I’m +some on shooting, and asked him for the bow. +Missed the first time. Next time, though, the +arrow went through the balloon, busted it, and +sailed to the ground with it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And this is it?” questioned Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes. The little fellows ran after it and +fought over it. I happened to see the tag, and +was kind of curious about it. By the time I got +it, though, the mob had trampled it in the mud, +and their feet had torn away half of it. Here’s +what’s left of it. Your name is on it, Tom, and +that and the reward——”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What reward?” inquired Ben quickly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s on the back of the card,” replied Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ben,” said Tom inspecting it, “this is another +of my old cards.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s written on the back, Tom?” inquired +Ben eagerly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom held the card so Ben could read it as well +as himself. A part of the card was gone, and +some of the pencilled words it had originally +contained were blurred and vague. What was +left of it read:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Take this to Tom Barnes and get ten dollars +reward. Tom: I am a prisoner—two bad men—about +thirty miles—in the—at—in lion’s cage—<em>Harry +Ashley</em>.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom scanned the card again and again. Ben +noted his serious studious manner. Finally Tom +turned to their visitor.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Bill,” he said, “you get the reward. I +haven’t the money with me, but any time to-morrow +you call here and get it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, I don’t want any reward,” declared Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You get it just the same,” insisted Tom firmly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll have to be getting along,” said Bill. +“I’m watching that launch for Aldrich to put +in an appearance. It’s eleven dollars and seventy-five +cents or a licking for him, I can tell you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think I know where those balloons came +from,” said Tom to Ben, when Bill had departed.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Where, Tom?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“A circus.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How so?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Those fragments of sentences on the card +lead me to believe that the message should read +about this way: ‘I am a prisoner in the hands of +two bad men about thirty miles from Rockley +Cove, in the circus at Wadhams, shut up in the +lion’s cage.’”</p> +<p class="pnext">Ben was on his feet in a bound, his face flushed +with excitement.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll bet you’ve solved it, Tom. And there +is a circus at Wadhams just now. Why, it’s just +the place where these toy balloons would be likely +to be on sale. And the mention of a lion’s cage! +That fits to a circus, too! I don’t understand, +though, how Harry has managed to send the balloons +aloft, if he was shut up somewhere +prisoner.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We won’t try to guess that out now,” said +Tom. “Here is certainly a big clue. Harry +is an ingenious fellow, and somehow has managed +to float these messages. I want you to stay here +alone for a spell.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Where are you going?” inquired Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“To report to my father instanter,” replied +Tom; and he was off speedily.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was the middle of the afternoon before Tom +returned. Ben was anxiously awaiting him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s the program?” he asked eagerly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You are to go up to the house at once, Ben. +My father has the team hitched up and is waiting +for you. A hired man is going, too, and the constable. +Telephone your folks from the house +that you may be away till morning. When you do +come back, report here right away.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right, Tom.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Storm signals are out, and one of us will +have to stay on duty to-night.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The sky had been overcast all the morning. +Long before dusk the forewarnings of a heavy +storm were discoverable, and Tom realized an +impending occasion when he was expected to exercise +unusual vigilance.</p> +<p class="pnext">At dark one of the field hands came to the +tower with a warm supper sent by Tom’s mother. +He chatted with Tom for half an hour and left +in a wild flurry of wind and rain.</p> +<p class="pnext">By eight o’clock the full fury of the gale broke +on land, already dangerous at sea, as Tom had +noticed for some time previous. The wind arose +to a hurricane, the rain came in sheets, and at +times the thunder and lightning became terrific.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was in constant readiness for service. +His ear was close to the receiver. He knew +from experience what these tempestuous nights +meant for those at sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">Suddenly there was a sharp series of sputtering, +crackling sounds. Then the receiver gave: +“y-3——y-3——y-3.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom thrilled. It was the first time in his experience +as a wireless operator that the signal +most dreaded had come into Station Z, for the +quickly repeated letter and its accompanying numeral +meant that some vessel at sea was in dire +distress.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom clapped the receiver to his ear, and, even +before it was in place he noted the clicking of the +diaphragm, which told that the electric current was +operating through the magnets. Then came a +snap, as when a central telephone operator accidently +“rings the bell” into one’s ear. It was +as though all the powerful current had concentrated +itself into the receiver.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Great Scott!” cried Tom. “With this storm +I may get a shock if I’m not careful!”</p> +<p class="pnext">He looked to his instruments, and glanced at +the connections. They seemed to be in perfect +order, and he was as well safeguarded as was +possible.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was a silence, and then more of the +pounding in the receiver. The lad was forced to +move it away from his ear, for it nearly deafened +him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“This is fierce!” he cried, as a terrific clap of +thunder, following a vivid lightning flash, seemed +fairly to shake the tower.</p> +<p class="pnext">The instrument acted incoherently for the +minute succeeding, and Tom could not make out +the message that was coming. He sprang to the +ropes that connected a tackle with the aerials +aloft and ran the netting up into tune.</p> +<p class="pnext">“She’s coming clear now,” said Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Y-3, off Garvey Rocks,” ran the message. +“Machinery broken and drifting. Send help. +Steamer <em>Olivia</em>.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom recoiled with a shock. The <em>Olivia!</em>! That +was the steamer upon which Grace Morgan and +her aunt were passengers!</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxthe-launch"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id21">CHAPTER XX—THE LAUNCH</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Tom held his nerves steady, although he was +somewhat shaken. His first business was to +send a response to the ship in distress. He did +not know what the facilities might be for receiving +on board the steamer, but he followed usage. +He had no means of knowing what other stations +had caught the flying cry for help. The lifesaving +station was twenty miles to the north. +Station Z was the nearest wireless to Garvey +Rocks by some thirty miles, and everything depended +on him in the present crisis.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom ran to the window and looked out at the +storm. It was truly a fearful night. The strong +blast was bending the trees almost to the ground +and sending the gravel scudding along the beach +like hailstones.</p> +<p class="pnext">Aloft the heavens were one constant glow of +liquid fire, and the thunder crashes reverberated +as in a hollow vault. The sea was lashed into a +tremendous fury, the waves sweeping mountain +high and breaking with a detonating roar that +added to the babel of the night.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I wish Ben was here,” murmured Tom in deep +concern. He could picture the disabled steamer +vividly in his mind’s eye, the more readily because +his fond girl friend was in peril.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Y-3”—again the call came, less distinct this +time, but more frantic and urgent—”ship aleak +and sinking.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Will get help to you somehow,” flashed back +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">He was in a tremor. Amid the strain of undue +excitement Tom’s thoughts ran rapidly. Only +for a moment, however, did he remain inert and +undecided.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Something must be done!” he cried, in an +excess of frantic anxiety and apparent helplessness. +“But what? There is not a boat on the +beach that could live in those waters—except the +<em>Beulah</em>!”</p> +<p class="pnext">The addendum was a shout. Tom sprang to +his feet, electrically infused with a sudden suggestion.</p> +<p class="pnext"><em>Beulah</em> was the name of the big pretentious +gasoline launch in which Bert Aldrich had arrived +in state at Rockley Cove. He had bragged mightily +concerning its possibilities. Tom had seen +him do things with it, too. The <em>Beulah</em> was a +wonder as to speed and staunchness. A thrilling +resolution fixed our hero’s mind. He would +arouse the people, reach Aldrich and influence +him to loan the boat for an attempted rescue at +sea.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was down the trap ladder in one reckless +slide. He ran down the shore buffeted, yet +helped along by the powerful hurricane blast. Bert +Aldrich was a guest at the home of Mart Walters +and that was the prospective destination of the +resolute young wireless operator.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom came in sight of the pier where the <em>Beulah</em> +was moored. He could make out her outlines dimly. +She was hugging the pier fitfully, tossing to +and fro.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why,” exclaimed Tom with a gasp of glad +discovery, “some one is on board!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Only for a moment to his vision, apparently inside +the cabin of the restless tugging craft, a flicker +of radiance showed. It suggested the lighting +of a match and then its extinguishment. The +indication of occupancy of the launch was enough +for Tom. He diverged from the road, lined the +beach, ran down the pier, and jumped aboard the +<em>Beulah</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">Rounding the cabin Tom recoiled with a shock. +Some one had leaped from the covert of a deep +shadow and pinned his arms behind him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Got you at last, have I?” shouted a determined +voice in his ears.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hold on,” demurred Tom struggling violently.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, you don’t! I’ve got you, Bert Aldrich, +and we’re going to have a settlement of that eleven +dollars and seventy-five cents right here and now.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m not Bert Aldrich! Don’t you know me, +Bill?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tom Barnes!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The Barber boy let Tom go as if he were a hot +coal.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say, excuse me, will you?” he stammered.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s all right, Bill. What are you doing +here in this storm?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Waiting. Can’t you guess—waiting to nail +Bert Aldrich.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It isn’t likely he will show up such a night as +this.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“He’s a coward, but he’d risk a good deal to +get away without meeting me. And what are +you doing here, Tom Barnes?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Instantly Tom was recalled to the urgency of +the moment. The discovery of Bill Barber aboard +the launch suggested a change in his plans.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Bill,” he asked quickly, “do you understand +running this craft?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Do I understand?” stormed Bill; “say, if anybody +but you asked me that I’d knock him down.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Something of an expert, are you?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Do you want to try me?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Just that, Bill,” rejoined Tom seriously. +“Listen.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Briefly but graphically Tom recited the cause of +his visit to the launch. He had Bill literally on +fire with excitement and energy by the time he had +concluded.</p> +<p class="pnext">“See here, Tom Barnes,” cried Bill, “there’s +no time to lose!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That is certain, Bill.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“The steamer is in danger.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Just as I told you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Off Garvey Rocks?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“When we get afloat we can probably make +out her lights?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Probably.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You want me to help you get to the <em>Olivia</em>?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’ve got to.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m your man.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I suppose Aldrich will resent our appropriation +of his launch.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Let him,” said Bill with a laugh. “I’ll take +out that eleven dollars and seventy-five cents in +the use of the <em>Beulah</em>. See? All aboard! Follow +me!”</p> +<p class="pnext">The Barber boy made a dash for the engine +room of the launch followed by the young wireless +operator.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxibraving-the-storm"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id22">CHAPTER XXI—BRAVING THE STORM</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">A violent gust of wind drove Tom up against +Bill as the latter led the way through the cabin +doorway. It was with difficulty that the door was +forced shut after them.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Stand still—hold on to something to steady +yourself,” ordered Bill. “I’ll have things fixed +up in a minute or two.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom heard his companion grope about the +room. Almost instantly a match was flared and +a lamp with a broad reflector illumined the place +brilliantly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Now then!” added Bill, all vim and activity.</p> +<p class="pnext">He threw open a locker, and from its depths +he fished out two rubber coats and caps.</p> +<p class="pnext">The two boys resembled old tars in their tarpaulin +trim. The excitement of the moment was +intense, but every move they made was progress, +and their nerves and courage were as steady as +steel.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can you manage the steering gear?” inquired +Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ve tried it on some smaller boats than this,” +replied Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, I can do the rest—provided the storm +let’s us. Br—r!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Even at anchorage the launch was swinging like +an eggshell in a tempest. Bill set the lights. +Then he pointed to the seat at the side of the +craft next to the engine.</p> +<p class="pnext">“She sparks automatically,” he explained, +touching a button, and there was a whistling whir. +“You control with the lever—understand?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Perfectly,” answered Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I can pilot anywhere inside of fifty miles,” +boasted Bill. “Garvey Rocks, you said?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill took his place at the wheel. Tom released +the shore tackle. Then he was down in his seat +firmly planted. The <em>Beulah</em> made a leap like +some marine leviathan bounding out of captivity.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom had never had much experience with a +launch, but it was sufficient, with Bill’s constantly +shouted directions, to enable him to run the engine. +The thought crossed his mind that he +would have the indignant ire of Bert Aldrich to +face on his return. It flitted quickly as the peril +of the <em>Olivia</em> and his loyal girl friend aboard of +the steamer recurred to him with intensified urgency.</p> +<p class="pnext">One plunge, obliterating all shore outlines, +seemed to whirl them into a vortex of battling, +unrestrained elements. The first splash of spray, +dense and blinding, covered Bill like a veil. A +great wave sent the craft hurtling along like an +arrow. Tom realized that they were bent on a +desperately dangerous venture.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We can’t line the shore; we must get out further +from land,” Bill shouted back.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill, once past danger of sandbars and breakers, +had turned the course due southeast. On +every calculation of knowledge of locality and distances, +this it seemed would be sure to bring them +in direct range of Garvey Rocks. For half an +hour they drove ahead, neither speaking a word. +Then Tom fixed his eye on some moving lights +shorewards. They inspired a sudden thought, +and setting the lever at steady speed he crept forward +on hands and knees along the slippery deck.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Bill!” he shouted hoarsely.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hello—what’s the row?” challenged Bill, +amazed that Tom had deserted his post of duty.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Made out any lights ahead?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not yet.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Neither have I. There’s some ashore, +though.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What of it?” questioned Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“They are of the coaling station at Brookville. +I am sure some craft is there.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Suppose so.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We had better advise them of our errand. It +may be a big steam tug. Two are better than one, +and the <em>Olivia</em> may be in a desperate fix.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“If she’s really on the rocks she’s stove bad +long before this,” was the discouraging rejoinder +of Bill, sending a chill through Tom’s frame.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We could never pull the steamer off the rocks, +but a larger craft might,” suggested Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What are you getting at?” asked Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think we had better make Brookville and +get the boat there, whatever it is, in service.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’re the boss, Tom,” said Bill simply.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom made his way back to his seat. Soon the +launch described a circle, which, masterly as was +the manœuvre, sent the craft careening at a perilous +angle. Then they headed straight for shore.</p> +<p class="pnext">They came alongside a steam tug just through +coaling at the dock at Brookville. The boat did +not have steam up, and was moored safely for the +night. Men were moving about the deck with +lanterns, making things trim and safe. Tom had +caught a grapnel on the rail of the tug and secured +it. Then he swung aboard the tug.</p> +<p class="pnext">He ran up to a man arrayed like himself in +foul weather costume, who stood steadying himself +at a hawser post, and who was giving orders +to the others. The man stared strangely at Tom’s +sudden appearance.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Captain,” shot out Tom tersely.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s me. Where did you come from? Oh, +I see,” and he caught sight of the outlines of the +launch. “What’s the trouble?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom briefly, rapidly explained the situation. In +an instant he realized that he was fortunate in +finding just the kind of a man he needed. The +tug captain listened to him in breathless interest. +When Tom had concluded he rested his hand on +his shoulder in a friendly way.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You’re a good one, lad, whoever you are,” +he said. “Sorry we’re shut down, but we’ll set +about steaming up in a jiffy. Garvey Rocks, you, +said?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, sir—know them?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Like a book. We’ll be on your trail inside +of half an hour.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s all right!” shouted Tom, as he regained +the launch. “Make straight for the steamer, +now, Bill.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“No time to lose either,” was the snappy response.</p> +<p class="pnext">The fresh start gave Bill his bearings more +clearly than ever.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I can’t miss it,” he declared. “Speed her +up, Tom.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The young wireless operator gazed anxiously +and eagerly ahead as they dashed forward. No +lights yet showed, but he knew that the shore line +described a circular sweep just beyond Brookville. +They might not be far enough out at sea +yet to give them a clear view of the waters. His +anxiety, however, grew to dismal forebodings as +ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed by, and the +same blank unbroken blackness loomed ahead.</p> +<p class="pnext">Suddenly Tom, who had been watching the +motor, called out to his companion:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say, Bill, you’d better come back here a +minute.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What for? I can’t leave the wheel, unless +it’s something important.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, it’s important all right. I don’t like the +way this machinery is acting. It doesn’t seem to +be sparking right, if I’m any judge.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Great Scott! I hope nothing goes wrong in +this blow. Wait a second. I’ll be with you. I’ll +lash the wheel. I guess it will be safe for a little +while to keep on a straight course.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom heard Bill tossing ropes about as he +picked up some to lash the wheel. Then he staggered +into the motor room, being tossed from side +to side by the pitching of the launch.</p> +<p class="pnext">Hardly had he reached the side of the young +wireless operator, than, with a sigh and a moan—a +sort of apologetic cough—the motor ceased +working.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, my!” exclaimed Bill. “There she goes! +I should say something <em>was</em> the matter.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What is it?” asked Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Don’t know yet. I’ll have to take a look. It +may be the ignition, or the carburetor, or any of +half a hundred things that can happen to a gasoline +motor. I’ll have to take a look.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Should I have called you sooner?” asked +Tom. “It was acting queer for several minutes. +First it would go fast and then slow.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, I guess coming in any sooner wouldn’t +have done much good. I’ll take a look now. +You’d better help me. Get the lantern and bring +it closer. We won’t need any one at the wheel +when we aren’t moving.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The launch was now drifting about at the +mercy of the wind and waves. She fairly wallowed +in the water, and it was no easy task to +keep one’s footing, to say nothing of trying to +get a balky motor back into commission. But +the two set about their task bravely, while the +storm raged about them.</p> +<p class="pnext">First Bill tested the ignition system. Something +was evidently wrong with that, for there +came no responsive buzz in the coil when he +threw the fly wheel over to make the connections.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Maybe it’s the make-and-break,” he suggested. +“I’ll tinker with that.” Which he did, +tightening and loosening the spring, separating +and bringing nearer the contact points. But it +was useless. There was no buzz.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Are the batteries all right?” asked Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll test ’em,” was the laconic answer, and +in a few minutes the announcement came: +“They’re good and strong. If I can get her to +start on the batteries I can swing her over onto +the magneto, and we’ll be all right. But I can’t +get a spark.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How about the plugs?” asked Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll try them next. Oh, there are plenty of +things to try.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And not much time to do ’em in,” added +Tom grimly, as he held the lantern where the +gleam would fall best for his companion. “This +is fierce, to be delayed this way when there are +men and women—yes, maybe children, too—who +need saving!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can’t help it!” cried Bill. “We’re doing the +best we can.”</p> +<p class="pnext">With a quick motion he unscrewed the spark +plugs from the cylinder heads.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Here’s trouble already, Tom,” he cried. +“They’re all sooted up. Now I’ve got to soak +’em in gasoline and——”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Maybe there are some spare ones aboard!” +suggested the young wireless operator. “Let’s +take a look. It’s going to be hard work to clean +these old ones in this blow. Besides, I don’t like +the idea of fooling with gasoline in an open can, +and with a lantern so close.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Neither do I. We’ll see if we can’t find +some extra plugs.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Together they began to rummage through the +lockers of the boat. Tossed about as they were, +slammed from side to side as the waves pitched +the launch, they spent a hard fifteen minutes in +the hunt.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I don’t believe there are any,” said Bill +despondently.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Here’s a box we didn’t open!” cried Tom, +as he saw a small one down in the bottom of a +port locker. “Let’s try that!”</p> +<p class="pnext">In another instant he had the cover off. There, +in the beams of the lantern, he saw the gleam of +white porcelain.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Spark plugs!” cried Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“New ones!” added Bill. “This is great. +Now we’ll move!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Quickly he adjusted the wires, but, before +screwing the plugs in the top of the cylinders he +tested them to see if there was no other break in +the ignition system.</p> +<p class="pnext">As the wheel was swung over there came a +welcome buzz from the coil, and a tiny blue flame +leaped from point to point of the spark plug, as it +lay on top of the cylinder head.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hurray!” yelled Tom, above the roar of the +wind.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s it!” shouted Bill. “Now to see what +happens!”</p> +<p class="pnext">The plugs were inserted, screwed tight, and +then came the test. Steadying themselves as best +they could in the rocking boat they turned the flywheel +over, Tom having thrown in the battery switch.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was the tell-tale buzz, which told of the +working of the spark plug—a buzz and a hum, +but there was no welcoming explosion. No hearty +puff from the cylinders that indicated the gasoline +mixture being set off by the spark.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hum!” mused Bill, as he paused to contemplate +the silent motor.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Something wrong, still?” asked Tom anxiously, +gazing off across the dark expanse of water for +a possible sight of a flickering light that would +tell of the ill-fated <em>Olivia</em>. But he saw nothing.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, we’ll try once more,” exclaimed Bill. +“Hold the lantern closer, Tom, so I can see how +the timer works.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The young wireless operator obeyed. Once +more the buzz and hum told of the perfect working +of the ignition system—and yet not perfect +either, for the motor was still silent, and the +launch was drifting about more helpless than +ever.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Suppose you try, Tom,” suggested Bill. +“Maybe you’ll have better luck than I had.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom handed his companion the lantern, and +grasped the wheel, for there was little use in trying +the automatic starter in such a condition as +was the machinery now.</p> +<p class="pnext">But Tom had no better success, though he +strained and tugged, giving the wheel many +revolutions.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Say!” suddenly exclaimed Bill. “The gasoline! +Didn’t we shut it off when we started to +see what the trouble was?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We sure did,” agreed Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“And we didn’t turn it on again, I’ll wager. +Look at the tank valve.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s right!” cried Tom. “Here she +comes now.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Waiting a moment for the carburetor to fill, +Bill once more swung the wheel over. They +waited anxiously to see if it would continue, but +with a wheeze it gave up as soon as the muscular +impetus stopped.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Carburetor troubles!” muttered Bill. “And +that’s the worst kind to have in a storm. Well, +there’s no help for it. Here goes to adjust it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">As is well known, many carburetors require +a different adjustment in rainy weather than in +dry. It was so in this case. Bill screwed and unscrewed +the air valve and readjusted the butterfly +automatic. He admitted more gasoline, then +less, giving a richer and then a thinner mixture. +After each adjustment he tried the motor, but +it was not until after about ten trials that, when +both were on the point of giving up, suddenly the +motor started.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hurray!” cried Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s about time,” murmured Bill. “She’s +working better than ever now, though,” he said, +as he listened to the machinery. “I’ll go take +the wheel now. Watch her carefully, Tom,” and +he went to the helm again. Once more they were +under way, and their anxious eyes peered through +the blackness.</p> +<p class="pnext">The storm had been bad, but now it was worse. +The swift dash of the rain formed a kind of mist. +Tom’s heart sank as he heard Bill at the wheel +utter a kind of impatient groan.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s amiss?” he shouted to the pilot.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Something’s wrong—no lights, and I may +have missed my course. We’ll have to strike +shore again, Tom,” said Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can’t we avoid wasting the time?” inquired Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“There may be no chance for the ship to show +lights,” suggested Bill, in his broad blunt way. +“Maybe the <em>Olivia</em> has gone down.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, surely not that!” cried Tom. “There—there!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good!” chorused Bill, in a gladsome shout; +“it must be the <em>Olivia</em>!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Directly ahead, but high up in the air, a brilliant +rocket had pierced the gloom of the tempestuous +night.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxiithe-rescue"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id23">CHAPTER XXII—THE RESCUE</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">Tom hailed the unmistakable signal of distress +from the steamer <em>Olivia</em> with energy and hope.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think I understand why we saw no lights,” +he remarked. “The steamer must have driven +into the breakers beyond what they call the North +Sentinel.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That must be it,” assented Bill. “Now Tom, +get to your lever.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill tackled the wheel with renewed vigor and +Tom braced up magically. At all events, he reflected, +the <em>Olivia</em> had not yet gone down. They +would be in time for a rescue. The heavy wind, +the pelting rain, the erratic gyrations of the +launch, were as nothing to him now. The thought +that he might be able to save precious human lives +inspired him with courage.</p> +<p class="pnext">A second rocket sailed through the mist-laden +air a few minutes later. Bill, in high animal spirits, +amid his excitement kept shouting out like a +schoolboy driving a bicycle.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Go it! Whoop-la! There’s a dive for you! +Beats automobiling!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hurrah!” broke in Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“She’s there,” echoed Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, the <em>Olivia</em> at last,” cried Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">Veering slightly to southeast, the launch came +in sight of the bobbing ship’s lights. One, a bulkhead +reflector, was quite clear and guiding.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Go cautiously now, Bill,” warned our hero.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll give you speed signals,” responded Bill. +“One—two, slow up.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom knew from having visited the Garvey +Rocks more than once in the past that they were +nearing dangerous waters. Somehow, however, +he had confidence in his pilot. Bill was daring, +and more than once the keel of the <em>Beulah</em> grazed +some obstruction. But Bill shouted back to Tom +each time that he knew his route, and would bring +about no disaster through recklessness.</p> +<p class="pnext">They were now so near to the steamer that they +could make out her situation quite clearly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“She’s stove in!” declared Bill. “Her fires are +out, and there must be a leak. Look at her now, +Tom—she’s rolling.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The condition of the <em>Olivia</em> was a precarious +one—Tom discerned this at a glance. She had +fallen over slightly on one side. The lights on +deck showed a number of passengers huddled at +a slanting bow, clinging to a cable which had been +strung from rail to rail, to prevent them from +falling or rolling when a particularly heavy billow +would cause the once staunch ship to quiver and +topple.</p> +<p class="pnext">Another rocket went up. It was followed by a +ringing cheer. The launch, slowing down, came +directly into the strong central focus of the bulkhead +reflector. Those working about the ship, +clinging to this and that as they moved about, +paused to stare at the staunch little craft of rescue. +The passengers huddled together lost their +terror and a babel of excited, hopeful, joyous +voices sounded out.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh Tom!—Tom!”</p> +<p class="pnext">The young wireless operator thrilled with an +emotion he could not analyze. In an instant he +recognized the voice of Grace Morgan. Could +she have been thinking of him, that the recognition +was so prompt; or, despite his unusual garb +and the clumsy oilcloth cap, did the powerful reflector +glow bring out his features in strong relief?</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ease her!” shouted Bill, and his very soul +seemed centered in working the wheel to prevent +both collision and retreat.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Throw them a cable!” roared the trumpet +tones of the captain of the steamer.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom caught the coiling end of the rope and secured +it, allowing a play of a few feet between the +two craft.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Drop the ladder!” came the next order.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The women first!” shouted one of the +steamer officers. “Get back, there!”</p> +<p class="pnext">There was light enough for Tom to see a portly, +fussy old man press close to the rail, vehemently +shouting out that he would sue the steamship +company if they did not instantly get him to +dry land. He uttered a howl of despair as he was +ignominiously bundled out of the way.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I can’t—I won’t, I shall faint!” shrieked a +rasping feminine voice, as a staunch sailor was +compelled to carry her down the swaying ladder.</p> +<p class="pnext">She wriggled like an eel as Tom grabbed her +and forced her into the cabin of the launch, going +instantly into hysterics as she landed on a cushioned +seat.</p> +<p class="pnext">“There are only eight of the ladies,” called +down the captain.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hold tight, Aunt Bertha,” Tom heard a familiar +voice speak steadily.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, dear, I know I shall fall and be +drowned!” wailed the second of the rescued passengers, +whom Tom was sure must be the aunt in +whose charge Grace had started on the present +unlucky voyage.</p> +<div class="figure"> +<div class="align-center container image-wrapper"> +<img alt="images/illus-165.jpg" src="images/illus-165.jpg"/> +</div> +<div class="caption"> +“YOU BRAVE GIRL!” CRIED TOM IRRESISTIBLY.</div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">“We won’t let you, ma’am,” assured the sailor +at the rail. “Be speedy now. There’s more to +follow.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The descent of seven of the ladies was accomplished. +Tom had not caught a murmur of protest +or fear from the plucky little maiden who +had waited her turn till the last.</p> +<p class="pnext">A shriek loud and ringing went up from the +seventh lady, for just as Tom seized her both of +them were nearly hurled into the water. A fearful +gust of wind had driven the launch with a +crash against the hull of the steamer. The same +terrific force gave the steamer a lurch, and she +threatened to turn turtle. As she righted, although +the ladder was flopping about like a whiplash, +Grace sprang past the sailor at the rail, slid +one-half the length of the ladder, was swung out, +and just caught in Tom’s arms as the captain of +the steamer roared out in thunder tones:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Slip the cable, you lubber, or the launch will +be crushed!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You brave girl!” cried Tom irresistibly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, Tom, can I help?” inquired Grace.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, quiet those in the cabin.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill sounded the bell at the wheel and Tom with +lightning speed made a dash for the lever. He +reversed just as the giant hull of the steamer flung +down with crushing force.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Fire! murder! help! police!” yelled the frantic fat +old man on deck, as his fond hopes vanished +with the receding launch.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Stand by!” shouted the captain of the +steamer to Tom. “There’s a dozen passengers +left yet.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“There’s room with crowding, if you can get +them aboard,” reported Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Life preservers, all!” roared the captain. +“One more lurch like that, and she’ll split in two! +Lower the men passengers.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“No need,” shouted back Tom just then, as a +dazzling light rounded the North Sentinel.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The steam tug!” cried Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That will serve us. We’re all right now,” +declared the captain. “Get the women passengers +ashore.”</p> +<p class="pnext">With a yell just then a great bulky form came +shooting over the side of the steamer. It was the +fussy old man. Tom barely managed to grasp +something floating behind him, or the suction of +the passing tug would have drawn him under the +swiftly revolving steam screw.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m drowned! I’m dead!” bawled the man, +half choked with salt water, as Tom pulled him to +the deck of the launch, to find that as many as +six life preservers encumbered his bulky form.</p> +<p class="pnext">The steam tug had approached the <em>Olivia</em>, running +her length as if to discover the real merits +of her situation. Preparing to start the launch +into the open sea away from the rocks and then +to run direct for Brookville, Tom and Bill for +a moment were awed into inactivity as a great +shout went up.</p> +<p class="pnext">The steamer again lurched to one side. A +loud crash sounded above the howling gale, and +the <em>Olivia</em> lay a shattered wreck on the rocks.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxiiievery-inch-a-man"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id24">CHAPTER XXIII—“EVERY INCH A MAN”</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“She’s a-goner!” shouted Bill, at the wheel.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Steady!” cried Tom, at the lever.</p> +<p class="pnext">The sounds of excitement and alarm among the +passengers still aboard the <em>Olivia</em> and her crew +told of a state of new distress and terror. The +launch, now at a safe distance from either tug or +steamer, was instantly put about.</p> +<p class="pnext">“She can’t hold many more,” declared Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We can’t see those people drown,” responded +Tom, and shut off the power, while Bill tried to +hold the launch steady.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom got a boathook and stood braced against +the cabin, ready to give assistance to any of three +or four men he had seen leap overboard immediately +after the <em>Olivia</em> had scuttled. His services were +required, however, only in the case of one +who was driven by a wave directly up to the +launch. The others managed to swim to the +steam tug, and were lifted aboard readily by the +crew over its low sides.</p> +<p class="pnext">The captain of the <em>Olivia</em> shouted out some +quick orders. A cable came whirling across the +deck of the tug. It was caught fast at both ends, +a pulleyed davit was rigged, and the remaining +passengers of the steamer slid along this. When +the captain came last, Tom knew that the steamer +had been abandoned to her fate.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s all right,” he called to Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Nobody lost?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think not.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Then it’s Brookville for us.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, quick as you can make it, Bill.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The storm had somewhat subsided. The <em>Beulah</em> +struck a straight course shorewards. Tom, +glancing through the cabin window, observed that +the lady passengers grouped there seemed quieted +down and coherent.</p> +<p class="pnext">The bulky man passenger with the life preservers +had crawled to the shelter of the stern +platform, and, wedging himself in between two +rods, only occasionally shouted out some mad +threat of a suit against the steamship company.</p> +<p class="pnext">The dock at Brookville was crowded by residents +of the little town as the <em>Beulah</em> drove into +comparatively smooth water in the coaling slip. +Men with lanterns, and some women too, had +braved the rain and wind, alarmed, and anxious +to be helpful when the rumor had spread that a +steamer was aground on Garvey Rocks.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom expressed a great sigh of relief as willing +hands caught the cable he threw to the dock. He +shut off the power, and as he passed Bill, grim +and business-like at his post of duty, he bestowed +a hearty smack between the shoulders.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good boy!” he cried exuberantly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill chuckled.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mean that?” he propounded.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I certainly do.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Some good, then, ain’t I?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Bill Barber,” cried Tom with genuine feeling, +“you’re pure gold all through, and every inch a +man!”</p> +<p class="pnext">The Barber boy thrust out his rough paw of a +hand to grasp that of his comrade in a hearty +grip.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tom Barnes,” he said, choking up, and yet +with the echo of a glad cheer in his tones, “I’d +rather hear you say that than—than—yes, than +even get that eleven dollars and seventy-five cents +Bert Aldrich owes me.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The door of the cabin opened, and Grace +Morgan stood on its threshold.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Have we landed, Tom?” she asked.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, Grace, safe and sound.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, how glad Aunt Bertha will be! What +are we to do now, Tom?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You are to be taken in charge by a lot of +kind people, it looks to me,” responded Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I will find out their plans, and let you know at +once. Tell the ladies there is no need of their +coming out in the rain until arrangements are +made for their comfort.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom clambered up to the dock. He had to +answer a dozen questions in one breath for as +many excited persons eager for news.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom allayed the general suspense by expressing +the conviction that all hands had been saved from +the wreck. Then he gave full attention to a big +man in a raincoat who seemed to be the spokesman +of the community.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Get the ladies to shelter,” this individual +ordered those at his side. “We can find room +for a couple of them up at our house.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll go and get the covered ’bus,” suggested +one of his assistants.</p> +<p class="pnext">“A good idea.”</p> +<p class="pnext">In two minutes’ time the proffers of shelter +exceeded the demand of the occasion.</p> +<p class="pnext">A fog whistle in the distance out at sea came +floating in on the strong breeze.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That is the steam tug with the other passengers +aboard,” said the big man.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, sir,” responded Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“How many, do you think?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Perhaps fifteen or twenty.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“They must be provided for,” said the man. +“There’s the hotel. It’s old and rickety and +don’t accommodate half a dozen comfortably; +but it’ll give them a roof, some kind of a shakedown, +and a warm meal to brace them up.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How much the cost?” broke in a sudden +voice, and the fat man with the life preservers +trundled into view.</p> +<p class="pnext">“How much for what?” demanded the other, +staring in astonishment at the odd figure the stout +passenger made with his armor of cork life preservers.</p> +<p class="pnext">“For lodging and meals. I won’t pay much. +Look at my clothes! All soaked,—and what of +my baggage back on that pesky steamer? I +won’t be robbed! I’ll sue everybody! I shan’t +pay a cent!”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You won’t have to,” assured the man. “The +hospitality of this town comes free, gratis, for +nothing, on such an occasion as this.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom told Bill of the arrangements in order, +and then reported to Grace. He had never admired +the little lady as much as now, as he noted +her kindly soothing treatment of her nervously-unstrung +aunt, her pretty obliging ways in seeing +to the care of an old lady with a crutch and a +young woman with a frightened child in her arms, +as the ’bus drove up.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Aunt Bertha is dreadfully nervous,” she said +to Tom. “She says she will abandon the trip +entirely now, will never venture on the water +again, and wants to get to Fernwood right away, +for she knows she is going to be ill.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It is quite a trip to your home from here, +Grace,” explained Tom. “I might get a vehicle +somewhere, but the roads must be almost impassable +in places, and the storm isn’t over yet. +If I were you, I would try and induce your aunt +to remain at Brookville till morning. I know +you will both be taken care of by these good +people.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I will try and console her to your opinion,” +responded Grace. She gave him a bright look. +“Oh, Tom,” she cried, bursting girl-like into +tears of mingled pride and joy, “you have acted +just—splendid!”</p> +<p class="pnext">She seized both his hands in her own and smiled +in grateful friendship at him, as he helped her into +the ’bus. Just then those on the dock broke out +into ringing cheers.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The steam tug!” said Tom, noticing the +craft approach.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was the excitement of a new landing, +eager questioning, rapid explanations; and Bill, +who had left the launch and mingled with the +crowd, approached Tom, smiling with good nature, +his hands in his pockets, a certain element +of pride and exaltation in his stride.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not a person lost,” he reported in glad tones.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The captain of the <em>Olivia</em> is looking for you, +and——”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s the lad,” sounded the voice of the +tug captain, and the man with him who wore a +cap with an official band of gold braid around it, +seized Tom as if he feared he might run away +from him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I want you,” he said, his hearty grip catching +Tom’s arm. “Hey, where’s that hotel you’re +going to stow us in?” he hailed to a villager.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll pilot you there,” was the prompt reply, +and passengers and crew of the <em>Olivia</em> followed +the speaker from the dock over to an old dilapidated +building that had been in its palmy days +the hotel of the place.</p> +<p class="pnext">It was well lighted up, and warmed by two red +hot iron stoves. It had an immense dining room, +and into this the crowd was ushered, and gathered +shiveringly about the great heater in the center +of the room. Adjoining it was a small apartment +which at one time had been an office. It had a +light on a table and some chairs.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Sit down,” said the steamer captain. “My +friend,” he added, taking out a memorandum +book and a pencil, “do you realize what you have +done for my passengers and crew to-night?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How about my comrade, plucky Bill Barber?” +inquired Tom, trying to evade the direct +compliment.</p> +<p class="pnext">“We’ll come to him in the final settlement, +don’t fret about that,” observed the captain definitely. +“You got the message, you started the +grand old ball rolling that saved twenty lives!” +exclaimed the excited captain. “So the tug +officer tells me. Now, then, a few questions. +Name?”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom gave it, and replied in detail to other +inquiries of his companion. In fact, before the +captain had concluded the inquisition he had gathered +from Tom and jotted down the main facts of +a pretty circumstantial account of the start and +finish of the rescue.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I shall telegraph the outlines of the case at +once to headquarters,” said the steamer captain. +“I shall follow it up with the written report of +your share in the affair. You will hear from the +company in a very substantial way, count on that, +young man. Wait here a few minutes.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The speaker left Tom and went into the big +room beyond where the rescued male passengers +and crew of the <em>Olivia</em> were gathered. He closed +the door after him, but Tom caught the echo of +many voices in animated discussion. He even +made out the cackling, complaining tones of the +man with the life preservers.</p> +<p class="pnext">When the captain came out he placed in Tom’s +hands a roll of banknotes.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hold on——” began Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No, you do the holding on, young man,” interrupted +the captain cheerfully. “That’s a little +heart-to-heart acknowledgment from the crowd in +there, who wanted to cheer you, but they might +scare the natives. Oh, by the way—I came near +cheating you. Here’s a part of the contribution.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The speaker burst into a rollicking roar of +laughter as he placed in Tom’s hand a nickel. +Tom smiled inquiringly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“From the old fat fellow with the life preservers,” +explained the captain.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh,” said Tom, amused, “I understand.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Good-by, Barnes,” said the captain, grasping +Tom’s hand till he winced. “I wish I had a boy +like you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You will thank those gentlemen for their +kindness?” asked Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, they’re the grateful ones,” declared the +captain of the <em>Olivia</em>. “I say, Barnes,” he shouted, +after waving adieu to Tom from the door of +the hotel, “look out for that nickel. It may be +real.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom hurried to the dock. He found Bill getting +the launch ready for the return trip. The +storm had almost passed over by this time.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Is it home, Tom?” inquired Bill.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Right away,” assented the young wireless +operator, “and the sooner the better. I have +some work at the tower before me.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“They are going to start back with the tug for +Garvey rocks, I heard them say,” remarked Bill, +as the <em>Beulah</em> got under way. “They may be +able to do something with her, at least save something.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom did not talk much on the journey back +to the pier. His mind and his heart were both +full. He had so much to commend his loyal +comrade for, that he did not wish to spoil it by +not choosing just the right time, and saying just +the right words to impress Bill with a sense of +his unaffected worthiness.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill insisted on taking him clear down to Sandy +Point. When Tom landed, he remarked:</p> +<p class="pnext">“If you’re not going home, Bill, I’d like to +see you at the station for a little while.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, I’m not going home,” responded the Barber +boy. “There’s that eleven dollars and +seventy-five cents to get from that measly cad, +Bert Aldrich, you know; and I’m going to stick +till I catch him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Forget that, Bill,” advised Tom. “We have +about taken out that eleven dollars and seventy-five +cents in use of the <em>Beulah</em>. You come down +to the tower, as I say. I’ve got something better +than eleven dollars and seventy-five cents to interest +you in.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Have?” propounded Bill, in his rough blunt +way. “What is it, now?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You come and see.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That fellow has a grand streak in him,” +ruminated Tom, as the <em>Beulah</em> sped on its course +and he made for the station. “He doesn’t seem +to have the least conception of his heroic bravery, +and never thinks of reward. I’ll give him a surprise.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom set at work the minute he reached the +tower. He sent messages to the life-saving station, +briefly detailing the event of the night, and +a routine report to headquarters. Then he took +out the roll of bills the captain of the <em>Olivia</em> had +given him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“One hundred and ninety dollars,” counted +Tom,—“and five cents. There, that’s Bill’s +share,” and he set aside one hundred dollars. +“The nickel we’ll nail up on the wall.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, what’s all that money?” inquired the +Barber boy, when he came into the tower an hour +later.</p> +<p class="pnext">“This little heap,” replied Tom, placing in +Bill’s lap a pile of banknotes, “is yours.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mine?” exclaimed Bill in a gasp, staring at +the money in wonder.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yours—one hundred dollars! It is your +share of a testimonial given us by the passengers +and crew of the <em>Olivia</em>,” and Tom explained the +incident of his interview with the steamer captain +at the Brookville hotel.</p> +<p class="pnext">A pathetic look came into Bill Barber’s eyes. +He looked at the money and gasped. He glanced +up at Tom and his lips twitched.</p> +<p class="pnext">“One hundred dollars!” he said slowly, impressively; +“a whole one hundred dollars, and +mine! I can get a new suit—why, Tom, I can +buy a bulldog now, a real bulldog. Oh, crackey!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill looked again at Tom. His tone changed, +a queer longing expression came into his face. +His voice broke.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Tom Barnes,” he said huskily, “it’s a heap +of a fortune to me, but, more than the money is +what you said to-night—that I was pure gold, +that I was—was every inch a man! Tom, it’s +too much—oh, it, it’s all come on me like a burst +of glory!”</p> +<p class="pnext">And Bill Barber broke down utterly, and +bawled like a baby.</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxivthe-kidnapped-boy"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id25">CHAPTER XXIV—THE KIDNAPPED BOY</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“Well, I see you have made it, Tom?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Made what, Dr. Burr?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“A brave record. I compliment you on it, +my boy. You deserve all they say about you.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I don’t understand what you are talking +about, doctor.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That will tell you, then,” and with a friendly +smile the Rockley Cove physician pressed upon +Tom a newspaper he had been carrying when he +met his young friend.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom was in a great hurry. He told the doctor +so and hastened homewards. It was the morning +after the rescue of those aboard the <em>Olivia</em>. Tom +had remained on duty at Station Z all night, and +Bill Barber had insisted on keeping him company.</p> +<p class="pnext">There had been little of real business to attend +to, but Tom had concluded it was the right time +to look out for disasters, as witness the lucky +reception of the wireless from the ill-fated <em>Olivia</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill had relieved Tom in watching and sleeping, +and Tom had dozed enough to keep him from +feeling done out, despite the rigorous experience +of the early evening hours.</p> +<p class="pnext">Just an hour previous Ben Dixon had put in +a dejected and disconsolate appearance at the +tower. The minute Tom caught sight of his face +he knew that his chum had failed in his search +for the missing Harry Ashley.</p> +<p class="pnext">“No use, Tom,” was Ben’s blunt report. +“Your father and I reached Wadhams and visited +the circus, but we were too late.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“How too late, Ben?” inquired Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Harry was gone.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Then he had been there?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“We found that out all right. Twelve hours +earlier, and we would have reached him. There +were two kidnappers, all right, and one of them +answered the description of the fellow you noticed +spying on Harry the day he was in swimming +with the boys.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Were they holding Harry a prisoner?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“A safe and sound one. The men had been +circus peddlers once. They took Harry to an +open, roofless canvas where a lot of truck was +stored. It seems that an old friend of theirs +had charge of it. From all your father could get +this man to say, Brady and Casey—those are the +names of Tom’s kidnappers—made him believe +he was a bad runaway boy they were authorized +and paid for to return to his friends. I don’t +believe that myself. I think the three men were +in cahoots, and that the circus tender was in on +the scheme, whatever it is. Anyhow, in the roofless +tent was a lion’s cage. Its occupant had died +a few days before Harry’s arrival. It was a +safe place to shut the lad in, and they did it. +They sort of partitioned the cage off by itself, +and kept close watch on Harry, so he wouldn’t +raise a rumpus. Brady was away for two days, +I found out, so their plot was working.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And what about the toy balloons?” inquired +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why, the way I got it was that one of the +circus peddlers who had a lot of them for sale, +kept his surplus stock in the storage tent. In +some way Harry must have been struck with the +idea of using them as messengers to tell of his +captivity. Anyhow, he managed to reach them +with a stick or string, or in some ingenious way, +and had all night to equip them with the cards. +Brady and Casey let Harry out of the cage, and +took him away in an automobile night before last.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“You couldn’t find out their destination?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“The circus keeper declared that he didn’t +know. Your father inquired around of others, +though, and from what he heard he thinks they +were headed for Springville. We weren’t sure. +We decided that Harry would be kept in closer +hiding than ever, and we sort of got discouraged +and gave it up.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I won’t give it up!” cried Tom, his eyes +snapping; and preparing to leave the tower at +once. “I’ll find the man I saw at the river if I +have to chase him all over the state.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Well, you see, you’d know him by sight, and +we wouldn’t,” submitted Ben.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I feel it my duty to do all I can to find +Harry,” proceeded Tom. “At any rate, I am +going to try. You stay on duty at the station, +Ben. It simply isn’t in me to remain quiet where +we don’t know what fate may threaten that poor +boy.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Now, after leaving the tower, Tom had met +Dr. Burr, and hurried homewards. He took a +look at the newspaper the physician had given +him. Its heading told that it was a daily print +from a nearby city, received at Rockley Cove by +a few residents early in the morning.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom, as has been said, was in urgent haste, but +one glance at the printed sheet halted him as +suddenly as if it had been a warrant presented +unexpectedly by an officer of the law.</p> +<p class="pnext">In glaring headlines the feature of the news +of the day, the rescue of the passengers of the +<em>Olivia</em>, was indicated. In bold, broad type his +name stood out as the hero of a grand occasion. +Tom’s eye lit up as in the same glaring type he +read also the name of his loyal adherent, Bill +Barber. It was “William Barber,” the dignified +way the paper put it, and Tom was unutterably +glad.</p> +<p class="pnext">He merely skimmed the three columns of details +that followed. Then he crumpled up the +paper and started on a run for home with the +breathless exclamation:</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s wonderful!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom did not mean that the chronicled rescue +was wonderful. He was too modest for that. +What stirred and startled him were the remarkable +evidences of journalistic ability displayed by +the newspaper. He decided that after he and +Bill had left Brookville the captain of the Olivia +must have got in immediate connection with New +York and other places by telegraph.</p> +<p class="pnext">“He must have had a busy time of it, giving all +those details,” ruminated Tom. “They have +made a big thing of it, sure enough. Well, it will +please father and mother, and as for myself—I +hope I deserve all they say about me.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom reached the house to find that the news +of his part in the rescue of the <em>Olivia</em> had preceded +him. When the newspaper was discovered, +every member of the family, even the hired men, +crowded about to stare in wonder at the printed +page over the shoulder of Ted Barnes, who began +to read in a tragic, breathless tone.</p> +<p class="pnext">Mr. Barnes looked considerably stirred up, +and there was a new respect for the “new-fangled” +wireless in his mind, Tom felt certain. +His mother tremulously clung close to him as +she asked solicitous questions, to be sure that he +had not suffered in limb or health from his hard +battle with the waves.</p> +<p class="pnext">As soon as things had quieted down somewhat, +Tom took his father aside. He told his parents +of his resolve to go in search of Harry Ashley, +and his father encouraged him.</p> +<p class="pnext">A hired man was to drive our hero over to +Wadhams in the farm gig. Tom reached that +town about noon. He went at once to the circus, +to find it in confusion. They were dismantling +the show to exhibit in another town, and the man +who knew Brady and Casey had gone forward +with the first contingent.</p> +<p class="pnext">About to follow, Tom paused. A sudden +thought came to his mind. The two kidnappers +had left Wadhams with Harry in an automobile. +It was scarcely probable that the machine was +their own.</p> +<p class="pnext">“They must have borrowed or hired it,” reflected +Tom, “most likely the latter. It’s worth +while trying to find out.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom made due inquiries in regard to the location +of public livery garages in the town. There +were three, he ascertained, and he started in to +visit them in turn.</p> +<p class="pnext">At the first garage he received no encouragement; +at the second one the result was more satisfactory. +The call book of the garage showed +that a machine had been sent to the circus two +nights before, and had made a run to Springville.</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s the one,” decided Harry; and questioning +the garage owner, he was soon in touch +with the chauffeur who had made the run.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’m the man, and that’s the bunch,” declared +the chauffeur, as soon as Tom had told the object +of his mission.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Where did you take them?” inquired Tom—“I +mean where in Springville?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“To the edge of a little city park,” replied +the chauffeur. “They made me stop there to hide +all later trace, I surmised; but it was none of my +business as long as I got my pay.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Didn’t you notice the boy they had with +them?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I did,” answered the chauffeur. “He was +quite stupid like, as if he’d been doped. I suspected +things weren’t all straight and regular, +but the man I heard called Brady kept telling me +he was a runaway lad who had made all kinds of +trouble and disgrace for his people.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom thanked the man for the information he +had imparted, and at once took the trolley for +Springville, which was about twenty miles distant. +When he arrived he had no definite plan of +action outside of going straight to the local police +in an effort to interest them in his story.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ll look around a bit first, though,” Tom decided. +“I may accidentally run across some hint +or clew that may help me.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom strolled about the place, his eye on the +alert. He had a faithful mental picture of the +ill-favored fellow he had caught spying on Harry +Ashley at Rockley Cove, and was sure he would +recognize the rascal on sight.</p> +<p class="pnext">He put in two hours in a stroll into such parts +of the city which he fancied a man like Brady +would choose in seeking a refuge. He chased +down two or three persons a view of whose backs +suggested the man for whom he was looking. +He had paused at a street corner as a great jangling +of bells and the shouts and hurryings of the +crowds suggested some pending excitement.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s a fire,” someone shouted, and pointed at +dense volumes of smoke a few blocks away.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom started to cross the street in that direction.</p> +<p class="pnext">Just ahead of him he casually noticed the hurrying +figure of a bulky clumsy-limbed man carrying +a big, old-fashioned carpet bag.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Hi! Out of the way, there!” shouted a +sharp warning voice, as a fire engine turned the +corner suddenly, bearing directly down upon the +awkward pedestrian.</p> +<p class="pnext">The man got flustered and made a forward +spring. The satchel he carried slipped from his +grasp. He ran back to rescue it.</p> +<p class="pnext">The ponderous rushing fire vehicle was fairly +upon him. Tom instantly saw his peril. There +was only one thing to do, and our hero did it +promptly and effectively.</p> +<p class="pnext">Making a forward dash at top speed, Tom +fairly bunted into the stooping man. With all +his force he struck him, sending him sliding head +over heels into the gutter.</p> +<p class="pnext">The feet of one of the horses attached to the +fire engine just grazed Tom’s heel, and, striking +the carpet bag, lifted it ten feet in the air. It +landed at the curb broken open, its contents scattering +far and wide.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom slid against the prostrate owner of the +satchel, picked himself up, and turned to ascertain +the possible injuries of the man whose life he had +certainly saved.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was, however, no gratified expression +in the face of the man. In utter concern and +disgust he stared at his scattered possessions, +wildly threw up his hands in a frantic despairing +gesture, and bolted out the echoing word:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Donner! Donner!”</p> +</div> +<div class="level-2 section" id="chapter-xxvtom-on-the-trailconclusion"> +<h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><a class="toc-backref pginternal" href="#id26">CHAPTER XXV—TOM ON THE TRAIL—CONCLUSION</a></h2> +<p class="pfirst">“Donneer! Donner!”</p> +<p class="pnext">At the mention of that startling word, Tom +Barnes was instantly convinced that he had made +a great discovery; in fact, he was satisfied that +he had at last discovered one of the “spooks” +of Station Z.</p> +<p class="pnext">Donner had been a mystery. The owner of the +satchel was quite mysterious in appearance. As +Tom tried to help him to his feet, he noticed that +the man wore a wig and enormous whiskers. +They were false, for the fall had sent them quite +awry.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Donner,” Tom had learned, was quite a +common word in Germany. It was equivalent +to our own “Thunder!” Tom, however, had +never heard the word used outside of his wireless +experience. To hear it used now by a suspicious +individual in the very city where Harry +Ashley was supposed to be, suggested strangely +to Tom that the odd individual before him might +be the erratic amateur operator, who had been +sending out messages referring to a runaway boy, +one Ernest Warren, with “sun, moon and stars +tattooed on his left shoulder.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Are you hurt, sir?” inquired Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">The man who had so narrowly escaped destruction +seemed to be more frightened than grateful. +He hurriedly adjusted his facial disguise +and looked about him to see if he was especially +observed. Then he shouted hoarsely, with a despairing +look at the scattered contents of the +satchel:</p> +<p class="pnext">“My baggage—quick, get it!”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom hurriedly collected the articles. He was +amazed at their oddness and variety. There were +one or two articles of clothing, and besides these, +two old-fashioned horse pistols, an ancient dirk, +four or five wigs, and as many false beards and +moustaches. The odd collection suggested an +actor with a limited stage outfit.</p> +<p class="pnext">The minute Tom handed the satchel to the +man with its contents restored, the latter made a +wild dash down the street. Tom was bound that +he would not lose sight of him, and followed fast +on his heels.</p> +<p class="pnext">He came upon the fugitive posted in a doorway +and anxiously gazing beyond its shadows along +the street. Tom paused near to him.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Can I be of any use to you, sir?” he asked, +eager to keep up an acquaintance he felt sure +would lead to some definite results.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Is anyone following me or watching me?” +inquired the man breathlessly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not at all,” responded Tom reassuringly. +“Everybody is running to the fire.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ah, that is good, most good!” exclaimed the +man in a relieved tone. “The troubles—all at +once. I am all turned around. You are a good +honest boy,” he added, scanning Tom critically. +“You would not bring troubles to a poor old +man?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not I,” declared Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“You would help him?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I would be glad to,” said Tom, delighted at +getting more closely into the confidence of his +companion.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Then you shall earn a dollar. See, I am a +stranger in the city. You must direct me—to +that address.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The speaker fumbled in a pocket and produced +a card which he handed to Tom. It bore an +address, and below it the words: “Go to section +4. Wait for Brady.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“What luck!” breathed Tom ardently. “This +man is certainly the mysterious operator, and he is +going to see one of the men who kidnapped Harry +Ashley.”</p> +<p class="pnext">It took about twenty minutes to reach the address indicated +on the card. Tom pointed out the +restaurant to his companion, who gave him a +dollar bill. Then with a brusque nod and a +searching glance all about him, he entered the +restaurant.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom crossed the street and reached a sheltering +doorway. His eyes were fixed on the restaurant. +What should he do next? He had almost decided +to recross the street, enter the place and +attempt to get nearer to the object of his interest, +when a man came around the corner.</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s Brady—it is the man I saw at Rockley +Cove,” declared Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">Brady wore a hat pulled well down over his +face. His manner was hurried and furtive, like +that of a person suspicious of every passer-by. +He bolted quickly into the restaurant.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I must do something now—something worth +while,” breathed Tom hurriedly. “There can +be no doubt in the world that those two men +have met here to do something about Harry. +They may go away by some other exit. I’ll do it.”</p> +<p class="pnext">These last words announced a definite decision +on the part of Tom, as his eye fell upon a policeman +in uniform standing at the nearest street +corner. Tom approached him, full of his plan.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Officer,” he said politely, “do you ever arrest +a person without a warrant?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’d arrest me own brother on suspicions if +he deserved it,” announced the man in uniform +bluntly.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I am in trouble,” said Tom rapidly, “and +I wish you would help me.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Spake out, me lad,” directed the big bustling +officer.</p> +<p class="pnext">“A friend of mine, a boy, has been kidnapped. +One of the men who carried him away is in that +restaurant yonder. If you will only take him +and the man with him to the police station, I am +sure I can convince you that they both deserve +arrest.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom briefly narrated the story of the kidnapping.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Come on, me lad,” ordered the policeman. +“It’s a case for the captain. Sure I’ll take them +in the act. This’ll get in the newspapers, and +Officer Lahey’s name along with it. Show me +the rascals, me young friend, and I’ll do the rest.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom entered the restaurant, the officer following +him. At one side of the place there were half +a dozen partitioned-off compartments. As they +neared the fourth one of the tier Tom heard the +man he had brought there speak out:</p> +<p class="pnext">“I will only pay the five hundred, as I promised.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“It’s five thousand, or you never see the boy +again.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I arrest both of yez!” here announced the +policeman, stalking into the compartment, and +placing a hand on the shoulder of each of the +two men, who arose in alarm to their feet.</p> +<p class="pnext">“What’s this?” snapped out Brady.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Resisting an officer of the law, are yez?” +shouted the policeman, as Brady tried to escape +his clutch, and he shaking the culprit till his teeth +chattered,</p> +<p class="pnext">“Donner! I am lost!” gasped the other prisoner.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I say——” protested Brady anew.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Shut up!” ordered the policeman. “You’ll +have a chance to explain to the captain at headquarters.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Aha!” hissed Brady, as, pulled out into the +main room, he for the first time observed Tom. +Evidently he recognized him, for a sullen, surly +look came into his crafty face.</p> +<p class="pnext">At the door of the restaurant the policeman +paused.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Go to the second corner, lad,” he directed +Tom, “and tell officer Moore his partner needs +his assistance.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom did as directed, and five minutes later +the prisoners were led down the street, each in +the charge of a stalwart guardian of the law.</p> +<p class="pnext">When the party reached the station, the +first policeman beckoned to Tom and led him to +the office of the police captain. Tom told his +story in a simple direct way. The captain came +out and looked first at the grotesque figure and +affrighted face of the big man, and then at Brady.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ah, it’s you, is it?” exclaimed the police +official, with a start of recognition. “Circus +Jake.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I think you are mistaken,” muttered Brady, +in a surly tone.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, no, I’m not. If you think so, I’ll just +send for your picture from the Rogues’ Gallery, +and go over a few records. Lahey, keep your +eye close on this fellow till I need him. You +two come with me.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The speaker led Tom and the man with the +big satchel into his private office, and beckoned +both of them to seats after closing the door.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Now then, young man,” he directed Tom, +“tell your story before this man.”</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom began at the commencement of the Donner +incident, and followed it up to its present +climax. All through the recital, as reference was +made to Harry Ashley, the old man started, +ejaculated, grimaced and groaned.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Ah, he was not Harry Ashley, he was Ernest +Warren, the son of my benefactor, my friend! +Did he ever say that I, Blennerhassett, abused +him?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“He never said anything about you, for we +did not know that he was Ernest Warren,” explained +Tom.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Now, then, for your story, Mr. Blennerhassett, +if that is your name,” spoke the police +captain.</p> +<p class="pnext">The old man looked flustered and frightened. +He cast an apprehensive glance out at the street, +an appealing one at the captain.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The Czar of Russia shall not be told?” he +at length articulated.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The Czar of Russia?” repeated the official, +with a mystified stare. “What has he got to do +with it?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Everything,” declared Blennerhassett, with a +groan. “You will not advise the spies of foreign +governments?” he persisted, very seriously.</p> +<p class="pnext">The captain evidently concluded that he was +dealing with a lunatic, for he said indulgently:</p> +<p class="pnext">“Surely not.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And no notoriety in the newspapers, so that +I might be trailed down by assassins?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Not a word, provided you tell the truth.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The old man began his story, which was an +interesting one. It seemed he had been a Russian +spy, and a price was set on his head. A fugitive, +he chanced to meet in Germany the father of +Ernest Warren. The latter was very kind to him. +Mr. Warren was a civil engineer engaged on +some large public work. He took sick and died. +He had learned to trust Blennerhassett as a loyal +friend, and had given him all his money with directions +to repair to the United States and take +personal charge of Ernest.</p> +<p class="pnext">The latter, it seemed, was one of the heirs to +an estate in litigation. It was to the interest of +others after the fortune to have him disappear. +Not only to protect Ernest, but also because he +was fearful the Russian government might hunt +him down personally, Blennerhassett had made +his new home in an isolated old house about fifty +miles up the coast from Rockley Cove.</p> +<p class="pnext">He never explained to Ernest the cause of +this seclusion and mystery. The lad had rebelled +against such a solitary life, had run away after +accidentally destroying five hundred dollars by +fire, and Blennerhassett, not daring to come out +openly, had surreptitiously visited a nearby wireless +station when its operator was absent, and under +cover had tried to communicate with the outside +world.</p> +<p class="pnext">He had incidentally come across Brady, and +had started him on a search for the runaway, +promising a five hundred dollar reward for finding +him. The day before the present one a demand +had come from Brady for five thousand +dollars to be brought to Springville at once, or +the boy would never be returned.</p> +<p class="pnext">“The five hundred dollars Ernest burned up +was his own money,” explained Blennerhassett. +“I love him as my own son. All I ask is that I +find him.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The police captain opened the door of his office +and called out into the station main room.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Bring that man in here,” he directed; and +Brady slouched into the private office.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Now then,” said the captain, “short and +sweet’s the word for you. Think we don’t know +you, eh? I suppose you’re not the man who advertised +a set of parlor furniture by mail for +fifty cents, and a yard of silk for a quarter, and +a plan to save your gas bills for a dollar, and how +to kill cockroaches for a dime?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“That’s old,” growled the discomfited Brady.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why,” explained the police official, “he sent +a toy set of furniture to investors, and a yard of +sewing silk, told them to save their gas bills on +a file, and advised them to get a board and a club +and whack the roaches. Now, sharp and brisk. +You’ve kidnapped this man’s charge. I’ll send +two officers with you to your partner to give him +up. Produce him, and you go free. Otherwise +I’ll telegraph all over the country to find out your +latest schemes, and lock you up for abduction and +extortion in the meanwhile.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“I’ve done my work for this old man,” blurted +out Brady.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes,” assented Blennerhassett, “and the price +was to be five hundred dollars, not five thousand +dollars. I’ll pay the five hundred.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“All right,” muttered Brady, “I’ll give in.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“And I’ll go with him to see that the boy is +all right,” said Blennerhassett.</p> +<p class="pnext">Brady was released later, for the old man returned +to the police station within an hour. Harry +Ashley, or Ernest Warren, as his real name +was, came in his company.</p> +<p class="pnext">There was a joyful meeting between Tom and +his friend. It was made still more happy when +Ernest was informed that the estate in which he +was interested had been settled, and his share +was some twenty thousand dollars.</p> +<p class="pnext">The guardian and his ward accompanied Tom +back to Rockley Cove as guests at the Barnes +homestead. Tom at once repaired to the wireless +station. He put his excitable chum in transports +of delight when he announced the success +of his search for the stolen Harry Ashley.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Had some visitors here this afternoon,” announced +Ben. “Mart Walters and young Aldrich +came along. Aldrich was hot and furious to know +if you had used his launch. Just as I explained +to them that you had, and thereby saved Grace +Morgan’s life, and they toned down a little, along +came Grace herself. She overheard their squabbling, +and turned her back on them and wouldn’t +speak to them. They sneaked away.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Oh, Grace was here?” said Tom, trying to +look only ordinarily interested.</p> +<p class="pnext">“She was,” replied Ben sprightly, “and spent +a pleasant hour. She made me tell her all about +the way we telegraph. She even made me teach +her certain dots and dashes. Hello! why, there’s +a call from my home wireless outfit.”</p> +<p class="pnext">The receiver began to buzz and click. Tom +looked suspiciously at his comrade.</p> +<p class="pnext">“T-o-m B-a-r-n-e-s, y-o-u a-r-e m-z m-x m-y +h-e-r-o. A-u-n-t B-e-r-t-h-a w-a-n-t-s t-o s-e-e +y-o-u. G-r-a-c-e,” came the message.</p> +<p class="pnext">“H-m,” commented Tom, flushing as his chum +chuckled audibly. “Up to tricks, are you? What +are you laughing at?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why,” smiled Ben seriously, “I was just +thinking what a whole lot the Morgan family +think of you, Tom!”</p> +<p class="pnext">It took two full weeks for Rockley Cove and +its vicinity to get over the courageous exploit of +Tom Barnes in saving the passengers and crew of +the <em>Olivia</em>.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bill Barber shared in the general commendation. +He appeared on the streets of the village, +chipper, ambitious and well dressed, with +the great desire of his life, a full-blooded bulldog, +at his heels.</p> +<p class="pnext">He boasted proudly that he had given Bert +Aldrich a receipt in full for the eleven dollars +and seventy-five cents, in lieu of the use of the +<em>Beulah</em> the night of the big storm.</p> +<p class="pnext">“I told him I could loan him a few dollars if +he was so hard up he couldn’t get along,” chuckled +Bill, jingling some coins in his pocket.</p> +<p class="pnext">The steamship company sent a substantial reward +to both Tom and Bill, and offered the latter +a good position on their line, which he accepted +promptly.</p> +<p class="pnext">Bert Aldrich sneaked away from Rockley Cove +with his crack launch, without being even permitted +to say good-by to Grace; and Mart Walters +remained in the back of the books of that +offended little lady for a long time to come.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom became a regular visitor at the Morgan +home. His ability as a wireless operator had +attracted the attention of headquarters, where he +was offered a good position.</p> +<p class="pnext">Even his parents were willing that he should +accept it, and for two years Tom worked his way +up to an inspectorship, taking a technical evening +course in a college at New York City.</p> +<p class="pnext">A new expert operator was put in charge at +Station Z, but Ben was still retained as a helper. +Ernest and old Blennerhassett settled down at +Rockley Cove, and after a year at school the old +Harry Ashley got an appointment as a regular +man at the tower. Blennerhassett gradually +worked out of his foolish fears of foreign enemies.</p> +<p class="pnext">Both Ben and Ernest were fascinated with the +wireless business, and the frequent visits of Tom +along the circuit encouraged them.</p> +<p class="pnext">Tom spent nearly half his time at Rockley +Cove. He was a regular visitor at the Morgan +home. One morning Ben came into the tower +with a happy smile on his face. He went at once +to the instrument and called headquarters.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Why so cheerful, Ben?” inquired Ernest.</p> +<p class="pnext">“Message.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Yes, I know, but what is its purport?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Mr. Morgan wishes me to send a society +announcement to the New York press.”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Indeed?”</p> +<p class="pnext">“Exactly—the engagement of our sweet little +friend, Grace, to our old time chum, Tom Barnes, +the young wireless operator of Rockley Cove.”</p> +<p class="center pnext">THE END</p> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">THE WEBSTER SERIES</span></p> +<p class="center pnext">By FRANK V. WEBSTER</p> +<p class="pnext">Mr. Webster’s style is very much like +that of the boys’ favorite author, the late +lamented Horatio Alger, Jr., but his tales +are thoroughly up-to-date.</p> +<p class="pnext">Cloth. 12mo. Over 200 pages each. Illustrated. +Stamped in various colors.</p> +<p class="pnext">Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.</p> +<div class="line-block smaller"> +<div class="line"> +Only A Farm Boy</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Dan Hardy’s Rise in Life</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +The Boy From The Ranch</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Roy Bradner’s City Experiences</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +The Young Treasure Hunter</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Fred Stanley’s Trip to Alaska</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +The Boy Pilot of the Lakes</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Nat Morton’s Perils</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Tom The Telephone Boy</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Mystery of a Message</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Bob The Castaway</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Wreck of the Eagle</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +The Newsboy Partners</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Who Was Dick Box?</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Two Boy Gold Miners</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Lost in the Mountains</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +The Young Firemen of Lakeville</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Herbert Dare’s Pluck</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +The Boys of Bellwood School</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Frank Jordan’s Triumph</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Jack the Runaway</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or On the Road with a Circus</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Bob Chester’s Grit</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or From Ranch to Riches</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Airship Andy</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Luck of a Brave Boy</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +High School Rivals</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Fred Markham’s Struggles</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Darry The Life Saver</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Heroes of the Coast</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Dick The Bank Boy</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or A Missing Fortune</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Ben Hardy’s Flying Machine</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Making a Record for Himself</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Harry Watson’s High School Days</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Rivals of Rivertown</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Comrades of the Saddle</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Young Rough Riders of the Plains</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Tom Taylor at West Point</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Old Army Officer’s Secret</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +The Boy Scouts of Lennox</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Hiking Over Big Bear Mountain</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +The Boys of the Wireless</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or a Stirring Rescue from the Deep</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Cowboy Dave</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Round-up at Rolling River</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +Jack of the Pony Express</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Young Rider of the Mountain Trail</em></div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<div class="line"> +The Boys of the Battleship</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or For the Honor of Uncle Sam</em></div> +</div> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst">CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK</p> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +<div class="line"> + </div> +</div> +<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">THE SADDLE BOYS SERIES</span></p> +<p class="center pnext">By CAPTAIN JAMES CARSON</p> +<p class="center pnext">12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.</p> +<p class="pnext">All lads who love life in the open air and a good steed, +will want to peruse these books. Captain Carson knows his +subject thoroughly, and his stories are as pleasing as they are +healthful and instructive.</p> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +THE SADDLE BOYS OF THE ROCKIES</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or Lost on Thunder Mountain</em></div> +</div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">Telling how the lads started out to solve +the mystery of a great noise in the mountains—how +they got lost—and of the things +they discovered.</p> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +THE SADDLE BOYS IN THE GRAND CANYON</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or The Hermit of the Cave</em></div> +</div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">A weird and wonderful story of the Grand +Canyon of the Colorado, told in a most absorbing +manner. The Saddle Boys are to the front in a +manner to please all young readers.</p> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +THE SADDLE BOYS ON THE PLAINS</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or After a Treasure of Gold</em></div> +</div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">In this story the scene is shifted to the great plains of the +southwest and then to the Mexican border. There is a stirring +struggle for gold, told as only Captain Carson can tell it.</p> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +THE SADDLE BOYS AT CIRCLE RANCH</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or In at the Grand Round-up</em></div> +</div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">Here we have lively times at the ranch, and likewise the +particulars of a grand round-up of cattle and encounters with +wild animals and also cattle thieves. A story that breathes +the very air of the plains.</p> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +THE SADDLE BOYS ON MEXICAN TRAILS</div> +<div class="line-block"> +<div class="line"> +<em>or In the Hands of the Enemy</em></div> +</div> +</div> +<p class="pfirst">The scene is shifted in this volume to Mexico. The boys +go on an important errand, and are caught between the lines +of the Mexican soldiers. They are captured and for a while +things look black for them; but all ends happily.</p> +<p class="center pnext">CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK</p> + +<hr class="vspace" style="height: 5em"/> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 35044 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |