The Motor Boat Club and The Wireless Part 31

"What has Lemly been smuggling in the 'Black Betty' all this time?"

"Diamonds," admitted Jasper, sullenly.

Tom Halstead felt like giving a great start, but controlled himself.

"Smuggling diamonds under Anson Dalton's orders, eh?" insisted the young skipper.

"Yes; I reckon so."

"How did you come into our matter--as a guard and a traitor?"

"I was on hand when Mr. Seaton was getting his guards together,"

replied Jasper. "So was Dave Lemly's mate. The mate told me to jump in and get my chance with the guard."

"What other orders did you have?"

"I was to watch my chance to do anything nasty that I could,"

confessed the fellow, hanging his head.

"That was why you tried to ruin our aerials?"

"Yes."

"You also listened to Mr. Seaton and myself, the night we were going over to Lonely Island?"

Jasper squirmed, his face growing more ashen.

"You heard what was said about papers hidden in a cupboard at the bungalow. Did you? Answer me, confound you!"

With an appearance of utter rage Tom bounded at the fellow, as though about to attack him. Hank closed in, to be ready in case the attack turned out to be a genuine one.

"Yes, I stole an envelope full of papers," admitted Jasper.

"What did you do with them?"

"I turned them over to Dave Lemly."

"Where? On Lonely Island?"

"Yes; Lemly visited the island twice, at night, while I was on duty there," confessed the fellow, whining and letting his head fall lower.

"What else have you done against us?"

"Nothing, except trying to disable your wireless."

"Are you telling the whole, full truth?" demanded Captain Tom Halstead, surveying the fellow suspiciously. "As much of the truth as you want to lay bare before going to the bottom in this wild storm?"

"Yes! Oh, yes, yes!" insisted Jasper, easily. "Now, I've cleared my conscience of its load!"

"Humph!" muttered Tom Halstead, dryly.

At that moment a snapping sound overhead reached their ears. The "Restless" veered about, then heeled dangerously.

"Our second and last sail has gone!" cried the young skipper, starting forward. "Jasper, I hope you have told me the whole truth, for there is no knowing, now, how soon you'll start for the bottom--how soon we'll all go down. Helpless in this sea, the 'Restless' may 'turn turtle.'"

Nor was Tom speaking in jest, nor in any effort to scare the recent prisoner into a fuller confession. Indeed, the motor boat captain was paying no further heed to the wretch, but making his way forward.

Jasper started to follow, Hank bringing up the rear.

As they reached the motor room the pitching and rolling of the boat were awesome enough. It seemed incredible that a boat the size of the "Restless" could live even a minute in her now helpless condition.

Joe still stood at the wheel, white-faced but calm.

"I don't see what we can do now, Tom," he shouted.

"Nothing but get down to the wireless, and do anything you can in the way of picking up some steams.h.i.+p," Halstead answered. "We might get a tow, or, at least, another spread of canvas for a third try to ride out the gale. The chances aren't big for us, but--well, Joe, we're sailors, and can take our medicine."

Joe smiled grittily as he edged away from the wheel after his chum had taken it.

"At least, if we go down, we go down in command of our own s.h.i.+p!" he yelled bravely in Tom's ear through the wild racket of the gale.

Then Joe went below. The storage batteries held electricity enough to operate the few lights and keep the wireless going at intervals for some hours yet.

Once, in the minutes that dragged by, Hank b.u.t.ts thought of the fine spread he had been instructed to serve all hands that night. But no one else was thinking of food now. Coffee would have been more to the purpose, but to start a galley fire was to take the risk of adding fire at sea to the already more than sufficient perils of those aboard the "Restless."

Every few minutes Captain Tom Halstead called down through the speaking tube that connected him with Joe Dawson at the sending table.

Always Joe's calm answer came, the same:

"Our wireless spark hasn't picked up any other s.h.i.+p yet."

Then, just as frequently, Joe would rest his hand on the sending key again, and send cras.h.i.+ng off into s.p.a.ce the signal:

"C.Q.D.!" The three letters that carry always the same message of despair across the waves.

"C.Q.D.!"--the wireless signal of distress. "Help wanted, or we peris.h.!.+"

CHAPTER XXI

THE SPARK FINDS A FRIEND THROUGH THE GALE

The time had dragged on far into the night. Joe was still at the wireless sending table, sleepless, patient, brave--a sailor born and bred.

Jasper, like many another rascal a superst.i.tious coward in the face of impending death, was seeking to appease the sting of his conscience by doing everything in his power to make amends in these grave moments.

He stood by, pallid-faced yet collected enough to obey any order instantly.

Captain Tom remained on deck all the time now, though Hank often relieved him briefly at the wheel. Both Hepton and Jasper stood by to help as deck-hands. Powell Seaton came up on deck occasionally, though he remained more in the motor room.