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Read Ebook: The Ocean Wireless Boys and the Lost Liner by Goldfrap John Henry Wrenn Charles L Charles Lewis Illustrator
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Ebook has 1371 lines and 48210 words, and 28 pages
Sam could sense the big spark that crashed across the instruments at Neptune Beach as the indignant and hungry operator there, harassed by half a dozen ships for more news, smashed down his sending key.
A STRANGE REQUEST
When Jack came on deck again, he thought to himself that it was entirely likely that the warning sent through space from Neptune Beach would be verified to the full by midnight. The merriment in the saloon appeared to be much subdued. The crowd had thinned out perceptibly and hardly anybody was dancing.
The ship was rolling and plunging like a porpoise in great swells that ran alongside like mountains of green water. Although it was dark by this time, the gleam of the lights from the brilliantly illuminated decks and saloon showed the white tops of the billows racing by.
In the light that streamed from the door that the man had neglected to close, Jack saw that he was a thickset personage of about forty, black-haired and blue-chinned, with an aggressive cast of countenance.
"Oh! It's you, is it? The wireless man?"
"The same," assented Jack.
"Well, this is luck. I was on my way up to your station. On the boat deck, I believe it is. This will save me trouble."
The man's manner was patronizing and offensive. Jack felt his pride bridling, but fought the feeling back.
"Why, no, Mr. Jarrold," replied Jack wonderingly. "Is she anywhere about these waters?"
"If she isn't, she ought to be. How late do you stay on watch?"
"Till midnight. Then my assistant relieves me till eight bells of the morning watch."
Mr. Jarrold suddenly changed the subject as they stood at the rail on the plunging, heaving deck. Somebody had closed the door that he had left open in his abrupt exit, and Jack could not see his face.
"We're going to have bad weather to-night?" he asked.
"So it appears. A warning has been sent out to that effect, and the sea is getting up every moment."
Mr. Jarrold of New York made a surprising answer to this bit of information.
"So much the better," he half muttered. "You are, of course, on duty every second till midnight?"
"Do you want to make some money?"
He paused for words. He didn't want to offend this man Jarrold, who, after all, was a first-cabin passenger, while he was only a wireless operator. Yet somehow the man's manner had conveyed to Jack's mind that there was something in his proposal that implied dishonesty to his employers. Except vaguely, however, he could not have explained why he felt that way. He only knew that it was so.
Jarrold appeared to read his thoughts.
"You think that I am asking you to undertake something outside your line of duty?"
"Why, yes. I--must confess I don't quite understand."
"Then I shall try to make myself clear."
"That will be good of you."
The man's next words almost took Jack off his feet.
"Then you are expecting to hear from the yacht to-night?" asked Jack wonderingly. It was an unfathomable puzzle to him that this somewhat sinister-looking passenger should have so accurate a knowledge of the yacht's whereabouts; providing, of course, that he was as certain as he seemed.
"I am expecting to hear from her to-night. Should have heard before, in fact," was the brief rejoinder.
"There are friends of yours on board?" asked Jack.
"Never mind that. If you do as I say--notify me the instant you get word from her, you will be no loser by it."
"Very well, then," rejoined Jack. "I'll see that you get first word after the captain."
Jarrold took a step forward and thrust his face close to the boy's.
"What sort of messages?" asked Jack, his curiosity aroused to the utmost. He was now almost sure that his first impression that Jarrold was playing some game far beyond the young operator's ken was correct.
Jarrold tapped him on the shoulder in a familiar way.
"And as I said, what sort of messages?" said Jack, drawing away.
"Cipher messages," was the reply, as Jarrold glanced cautiously around over his shoulder.
When Jack turned again to look for Jarrold, he had gone.
A PECULIAR COINCIDENCE
But the young wireless boy had no time right then to waste in speculation over the man's strange conduct. It was his duty to relieve Sam, who would not come on watch again till midnight.
The wind, too, was shrieking and screaming through the rigging and up among the a?rials. Jack involuntarily glanced upward, although it was too dark to see the antennae swaying far aloft between the masts.
"I hope to goodness they hold," he caught himself thinking, and then recalled that, in the hurry of departure from New York, he had not had a chance to go aloft and examine the insulation or the security of their fastenings himself.
In the wireless room he found Sam with the "helmet" on his head. The boy was plainly making a struggle to stick it out bravely, but his face was pale.
"Anything come in?" asked Jack.
"Not a thing."
"Caught anything at all from any other ship?"
Sam's answer was to tug the helmet hastily from his head. He hurriedly handed it to Jack, and then bolted out of the place without a word.
"Poor old Sam," grinned Jack, as he sat down at the instruments and adjusted the helmet that Sam had just discarded; "he's got his, all right, and he'll get it worse before morning."
Sam came back after a while. He was deathly pale and threw himself down on his bunk in the inner room with a groan. He refused to let Jack send for a steward.
"Just leave me alone," he moaned. "Oh-h, I wish I'd stayed home in Brooklyn! Do you think I'm going to die, Jack?"
"Not this trip, son," laughed Jack. "Why, to-morrow you will feel like a two-year-old."
"Yes, I will--not," sputtered the invalid. "Gracious, I wish the ship would sink!"
After a while Sam sank into a sort of doze, and Jack, helmet on head and book in hand, sat at the instruments, keeping his vigil through the long night hours, while the storm shrieked and rioted about the ship.
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