The Brighton Boys in the Radio Service Part 8

"Evidently his intention was not a loyal or friendly one," the junior officer continued. "It would seem to me that his probable purpose was to divulge to German submarines our whereabouts when we came within their zone."

Apparently the commander of the s.h.i.+p agreed with him, for he made no immediate answer. For several moments he remained in meditative silence, his brow wrinkled, as though he was turning the whole thing over and over in his mind.

"From the very fact that he wore such a garment," the captain said at last, "it would seem that this man is among the regularly enlisted men on this s.h.i.+p. However, that is by no means certain. There is this certainty, however: If he would go to such desperate lengths once, there is every possibility that he will do so again--only more cautiously than before, for now he knows that his presence on board is known.

"The most rigid investigation must be started at once, and for that, Lieutenant, I will require your a.s.sistance. Leave these young men in charge of the wireless room, unless something unusual or in the nature of an emergency occurs.

"As for you gentlemen," he continued, turning toward the three boys from Brighton, "you are commanded not to mention a single word about this whole occurrence to another soul. If any one should question you, with a seeming knowledge of what happened here to-night, report the matter to me at once."

"Yes, sir," the three boys responded, saluting, and the captain departed, motioning Lieutenant Mackinson to accompany him.

By this time Joe was stiff and sore in every joint. Jerry and Slim insisted that he retire immediately, and helped him off with his clothing.

Nor was there any objection from Jerry, whose turn in the wireless room was to begin then and last until one o'clock in the morning, when Slim suggested that he would stay on with him, "just to talk things over."

"All right," said Jerry, "and then I'll stay on during your s.h.i.+ft, until Joe relieves us in the morning. We can get a good sleep to-morrow, anyway."

And so the long night began. The dull song of the engines, far, far below, became like the monotonous droning of giant bees, and the wash of the salt water against the side of the s.h.i.+p was a constantly recurring swash-h-h--swish--swash-h-h--swish as the vessel plowed on and on through the darkness, toward the submarine zone and Europe and the battlefields and the trenches and the men--millions of them--of the Allied armies.

It was near midnight, and the boys had fallen silent, Jerry with the wireless headpiece over his ears, Slim standing near the porthole, gazing out at the lone swaying light that indicated the position and the progress of the cruiser convoy on the port side.

Suddenly Slim whirled around, his face pale, his muscles tense, and with a motion to Jerry signaled silence. As the latter removed the gear from his head, Slim tiptoed across the room to him. Placing his lips close to Jerry's ears he said: "I thought I heard someone in the battery room.

Listen!"

There was no doubt of it this time. Both boys heard the sound. It was of someone softly feeling about, as though in doubt as to his exact position.

"Quick!" hissed Slim into Jerry's ear. "You get the captain and lieutenant; I'll wait here."

And as Jerry disappeared through the room in which Joe was sleeping, so as not to give suspicion to the man in the battery room, Slim slid into Jerry's chair and centered every faculty upon listening to the almost inaudible movements in the next chamber.

He could tell instinctively that the man was feeling about the walls with his hands. And not unnaturally, recalling Joe's experience only a few hours before, it gave Slim a creepy sort of feeling.

Then all sound ceased. Try as hard as he would, he could not hear a thing. He rose from the chair and went closer to the intervening door.

All was silent!

A few seconds later the captain and lieutenant, accompanied by Jerry, came hurrying into the room. Without an instant's delay the captain turned the k.n.o.b and they entered the battery room, switching on the light at the same time.

Apparently not a thing had been touched, but the outer door was ajar.

The lieutenant jumped to it and peered out, but no one was to be seen.

He closed and locked the door and began an inspection of the batteries.

"Everything seems to be all right," he said finally; and then, his eyes traveling to the table, he stopped short.

"The wireless instrument," he gasped. "It's gone!"

"Where was it left?" the captain demanded sharply.

"On that table there," Lieutenant Mackinson answered. "I placed it there myself, as you probably will remember, just before we went out together."

"I remember," the captain admitted.

"That spy has been back," the junior officer continued. "Back in this very room after his instrument, and he intends to use it yet if he can!"

CHAPTER VII

THE TIMELY RESCUE

It was no pleasant thought to contemplate the presence of a bold, even desperate, agent of an enemy government, on board an American transport carrying approximately two thousand souls.

That he was capable of going any lengths, if necessary, already had been proved; and the evidence of his evil genius might come in horrible form at any instant.

Nevertheless, neither the excitement nor the potential danger of the situation was sufficient to prevent Jerry and Slim from taking a full eight hours of much-needed sleep, while Lieutenant Mackinson, Joe and three other officers whom the captain had taken into his confidence in the matter, followed out every possible clue in pursuit of a solution of the baffling mystery.

The record of every enlisted man and officer on the vessel had been most carefully probed, without building up enough suspicion to warrant the singling out of any individual as the probable offender.

Likewise an investigation of the members of the crew had failed to develop anything tangible, even directly suspicious. It was a case of watch everybody, take every precaution, and be prepared for anything.

Only nine men on the vessel, however, including the spy himself, knew anything about it, and the rest were in utter ignorance of the treachery that might be directed against them at any time.

Refreshed by their sleep, Jerry and Slim arose about four o'clock that afternoon. Joe, who had rested easily throughout the later excitement of the preceding night, was still in the midst of the investigation and was not then to be found. Jerry had some letters to write, so Slim went to the upper deck alone.

Seeing no one that he knew, and his mind weighted anyway with the menacing mystery of the strange happenings of the night before, he sat down on a coil of rope, just in the lee of the forward smokestack, to think the whole matter over for the twentieth time.

He was thus absorbed when something, at first vague and indefinite, then clearer and clearer until it was unmistakable, began to impress itself upon his mind. Like the awakening call that comes to a man in a sound sleep--seemingly as a far-off whisper that gradually gathers volume and strength until finally the sleeper awakes with a start to find someone standing directly over him, loudly and insistently calling his name--so Slim came to a realization of the strange series of sounds that were being repeated within a few feet of him.

Could it possibly be only the crackling of the steam-pipe that ran along the smokestack to the whistle--a crackling merely from the pressure within? For a moment Slim thought an over-wrought imagination was playing tricks upon him. But he rose hastily and crossed the short intervening distance.

Clearly and distinctly it came to him then. Someone in another part of the vessel was rapping desperately upon that pipe! And in the long and short dashes of the international code that someone was repeating a single word--"Help! Help! Help!"

In another instant, using the heavy end of his jackknife as a crude transmitter, Slim was tapping off the reply:

"Who are you--and where?"

"Lieutenant Mackinson," the message began to come back. "Locked in closet off engine room. Can't make self heard. Can you help?"

"This is Slim," the youth rapped back upon the pipe. "Caught your message on deck. Am coming with help at once."

And he dashed down the deck toward the captain's quarters, almost bowling over the captain's aide as he hurtled into the sanctum of the s.h.i.+p's commander unannounced.

"Well?" the captain demanded sternly. "Why all the haste?"

"Lieutenant Mackinson," Slim blurted out; "he's locked in a closet down near the engine room."

"Locked in a closet!" the captain repeated incredulously. "How do you know?"

"He gave a telegraphic call for help on the steam-pipe which runs through there and connects with the whistle," the lad explained. "I was on deck and heard it. I talked with him over the pipe."