The Boys of the Wireless Part 33

"Made what, Dr. Burr?"

"A brave record. I compliment you on it, my boy. You deserve all they say about you."

"I don't understand what you are talking about, doctor."

"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.

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 _Olivia_. Tom had remained on duty at Station Z all night, and Bill Barber had insisted on keeping him company.

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 _Olivia_.

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.

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.

"No use, Tom," was Ben's blunt report. "Your father and I reached Wadhams and visited the circus, but we were too late."

"How too late, Ben?" inquired Tom.

"Harry was gone."

"Then he had been there?"

"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."

"Were they holding Harry a prisoner?"

"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 part.i.tioned 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."

"And what about the toy balloons?" inquired Tom.

"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."

"You couldn't find out their destination?"

"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."

"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."

"Well, you see, you'd know him by sight, and we wouldn't," submitted Ben.

"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."

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.

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.

In glaring headlines the feature of the news of the day, the rescue of the pa.s.sengers of the _Olivia_, 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.

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:

"It's wonderful!"

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.

"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."

Tom reached the house to find that the news of his part in the rescue of the _Olivia_ 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"They must have borrowed or hired it," reflected Tom, "most likely the latter. It's worth while trying to find out."

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.

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.

"That's the one," decided Harry; and questioning the garage owner, he was soon in touch with the chauffeur who had made the run.

"I'm the man, and that's the bunch," declared the chauffeur, as soon as Tom had told the object of his mission.

"Where did you take them?" inquired Tom-"I mean where in Springville?"

"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."

"Didn't you notice the boy they had with them?"

"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."

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.

"I'll look around a bit first, though," Tom decided. "I may accidentally run across some hint or clew that may help me."

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.

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.

"It's a fire," someone shouted, and pointed at dense volumes of smoke a few blocks away.