The Wireless Officer

by Percy F. Westerman

  Produced by Al Haines

  Cover art]

  [Frontispiece: THE LASCARS BUNDLED THE BODIES INTO THE LIFEBOAT. _Page_52]

  THE WIRELESS OFFICER

  BY

  PERCY F. WESTERMAN

  Author of "The Third Officer," "Sea Scouts All," &c. &c.

  Illustrated by W. E. Wigfull

  BLACKIE & SON LIMITED

  LONDON AND GLASGOW

  1922

  By Percy F. Westerman

  The Bulldog Breed. In Eastern Seas. Standish Loses his Man. Standish Gets his Man. Cadet Alan Carr. Under Fire in Spain. Haunted Harbour. His Unfinished Voyage. Winged Might. Captain Flick. Tireless Wings. His First Ship. The Red Pirate. The Call of the Sea. Standish of the Air Police. Sleuths of the Air. Andy-All-Alone. The Westow Talisman. The White Arab. The Buccaneers of Boya. Rounding up the Raider. Captain Fosdyke's Gold. In Defiance of the Ban. The Senior Cadet. The Amir's Ruby. The Secret of the Plateau. Leslie Dexter, Cadet. A Mystery of the Broads. Rivals of the Reef. Captain Starlight. On the Wings of the Wind. Captain Blundell's Treasure. Unconquered Wings. Pat Stobart in the "Golden Dawn". Ringed by Fire. Midshipman Raxworthy. Chums of the "Golden Vanity". Clipped Wings. Rocks Ahead. King for a Month. The Disappearing Dhow. The Luck of the "Golden Dawn". The Salving of the "Fusi Yama". Winning his Wings. The Good Ship "Golden Effort". East in the "Golden Gain". The Quest of the "Golden Hope". The Wireless Officer. The Submarine Hunters. The Thick of the Fray at Zeebrugge. With Beatty off Jutland. The Dispatch Riders. The Last of the Buccaneers. A Lively Bit of the Front.

  The Westerman Omnibus Book

  Printed in Great Britain by Blackie & Son, Ltd., Glasgow

  Contents

  CHAP.

  I. Good News II. The Eavesdropper III. Reporting for Duty IV. The Greenhorns V. Under Way VI. A Night of Peril VII. "Logged" VIII. The Passengers IX. A Quiet Trick X. The Unheeded SOS XI. The Old Man is Disturbed XII. The Code-Book XIII. Crossing the Line XIV. Mostyn to the Rescue XV. Unpopularity XVI. Hot Work in No. 1 Hold XVII. The Decoy Wireless XVIII. The Difference of a Dot XIX. Peter's Progress XX. An Eventful River Trip XXI. The End of S.S. "West Barbican" XXII. A Night of Horror XXIII. Peter takes Charge of Things XXIV. Tidings from the Sea XXV. Riding it Out XXVI. Mostyn's Watch XXVII. Aground XXVIII. The Island XXIX. Repairs and Renewals XXX. The Voyage is Resumed XXXI. Picked up at Sea XXXII. The Dhow XXXIII. A Fight to a Finish XXXIV. Olive Deals with the Situation XXXV. The End of the Voyage XXXVI. A Round of Surprises XXXVII. How the Steelwork Arrived XXXVIII. The Completion of the Contract

  Illustrations

  The Lascars bundled the bodies into the life-boat . . . _Frontispiece_

  The two men disappeared over the side of the ship

  He began to turn the locking device, slowly and firmly

  Two to one

  THE WIRELESS OFFICER

  CHAPTER I

  Good News

  "Hurrah!" exclaimed Peter Mostyn. "Now, this _does_ look likebusiness."

  "It does, Mr. Mostyn," agreed the postmistress. "It seems as if we areto lose you again."

  "And about time too," added the youth, as he ripped open the long,buff-coloured envelope bearing the words "Broughborough InternationalMarine Telegraph Company".

  Peter Mostyn had been "on the beach" for nearly six months. In otherwords, he was out of a berth. Not that it was any fault of his that apromising and energetic young wireless officer should be without a shipfor such a protracted period. An unprecedented slump in Britishshipping--when hundreds of vessels flying the Red Ensign were laid up,while the bulk of the world's trade was carried by the mercantile fleetof Germany--had resulted, amongst other ills, in the wholesale"sacking" of officers and men, who to a great extent had been the meansof warding off the grim spectre of starvation during those black yearsof the World War.

  Five times a week for over four months Peter Mostyn had ridden intoTrentham Regis village in the hope of securing the long-expectedmissive giving him an appointment to another ship.

  And now the anxiously awaited communication had arrived. Thepostmistress, a good, kindly soul to whom the affairs of every man,woman, and child in the Trentham Regis postal area were open secrets,was almost as excited as the recipient, when she handed the envelopeover the counter between the piles of groceries that comprised thecommercial side of the shop.

  For a brief instant Peter was assailed by the dread that the envelopewould contain a stereotyped announcement to the effect that hisapplication was still under consideration; then a look of undisguisedrelief and gratification overspread his tanned features.

  "Yes, Mrs. Young!" he exclaimed; "I'm off in three days' time. Where?I hardly know, but I rather fancy it's East Africa. Good evening."

  Leaving the postmistress to spread the news amongst the good folk ofTrentham Regis--a feat that she would certainly accomplish to herunbounded satisfaction before the post office closed for thenight--Peter mounted his motor-bicycle and rode after the fashion ofthe long departed Jehu, the son of Nimshi, leaving behind him a longtrail of chalky dust in the still evening air. Short of wireless itwas doubtful whether the good news could have reached "The Pines" inless time, for within the space of five and a half minutes Peter hadcovered the three miles that separated his home from Trentham Regis.

  "Hello, Mater!" he exclaimed, bursting into the house like a youngtyphoon. "Where are you? Ah, there you are! I've got it!"

  There was no need for Mrs. Mostyn to ask for further enlightenment uponthe cryptic "it". She guessed the news at once.

  "I'm so glad, Peter!" she exclaimed. "What ship this time?"

  "The _West Barbican_, Mater. I fancy she's one of the Blue CrescentLine. If so, it's East Africa and possibly India, this trip. 'Tanyrate, I'm to join her before noon on Thursday. Where's the Pater?"

  "Not back from town yet. There was a board meeting on this afternoon."

  "Oh yes, I remember. About the Kilba Protectorate contract. I supposehe'll return by the 8.50.... By Jove! What a topping stunt! Fancygetting a ship again after all this time. Of course, Mother, it wasnice to be home again, but, after all, it's a jolly long time to bekicking one's heels on the beach, isn't it?"

  Mrs. Mostyn agreed, but solely upon her son's account. She was in nohurry to send her boy to sea again, but she realized that it was forhis good that he should once more adventure upon the ocean. Coming ofa seafaring family that for generations past had sent its sons down tothe sea in ships--often never to return--she realized more than a goodmany mothers what was meant by the call of the great waters. She haddrunk deeply of the cup of sorrow when the S.S. _Donibristle_, of whichPeter was wireless officer, had been reported overdue and missing, andwas afterwards given out by Lloyd's as a total loss. And in due coursePeter had returned home, modestly making light of his hairbreadthadventures, his chief complaint being that the BroughboroughInternational Marine Telegraph Company had not thought fit to appointhim to a ship belonging to the same fleet as did the S.S. _Donibristle_.

  Peter's father, John Mostyn, was a retired Engineer Captain, R.N., who,having severed his connection with the navy at the conclusion of theGreat War, had become one of the managing directors of the BrocklingtonIronworks Company.

  For a while the affairs of the newly formed company had flourished.Then came the inevitable slump. Labour troubles and foreigncompetition added to the difficulties of the firm. The reserve capitaldwindled until there were barely sufficient funds to meet the weeklywages bill. Things looked black--decidedly so; but never once did thegloomy outlook daunt
the cheery optimism of retired Engineer CaptainJohn Mostyn.

  When the fortunes of the Brocklington Ironworks Company seemed at theirlowest ebb, the firm had an invitation to tender for a big contract forthe recently formed Kilba Protectorate. Comprising a vast extent ofterritory on the East Coast of Africa, Kilba was making a bold bid forprosperity under British rule. Amongst other schemes for thedevelopment of the country was the proposed construction of a railwaylinking up the coast with the rich mineral lands of the interior. Oneof the natural difficulties in the way of the railroad was theKilembonga Gorge, where the river of that name flows with greatimpetuosity between sheer walls of rock rising two hundred feet abovethe turgid stream. The bed of the river was of shifting sand, so that,even if the difficulty of the current could be overcome, there remainedthe question of how to build solid piers on such a doubtful foundation.Finally it was decided to throw a cantilever bridge across the chasm.

  Accordingly, the Kilba Protectorate Government asked tenders for theconstruction of the necessary steelwork, including delivery upon thesite. British, American, Italian, Japanese, and German firms wereinvited to contract, although it was difficult to see why the KilbaGovernment should have asked these last to quote a price. It was notuntil later that a reason was forthcoming.

  Among the British firms to tender was the Brocklington IronworksCompany, and it was then that Captain Mostyn seized his opportunity.He foresaw that a successful carrying out of the contract would be theturning-point of the firm's fortunes--that the kudos derived from thatprosperous enterprise would give the Brocklington Ironworks Company aworld-wide advertisement and place them at the forefront of engineeringcontracting firms.

  Upon putting the circumstances of the case before hisbrother-directors, Captain Mostyn carried his point. He told them thatthe immediate financial results of the contract would be small--infact, almost insignificant--but once having beaten all rivals, Britishand foreign, the future success of the company was assured.

  "Capital?" echoed Captain Mostyn, in answer to a question from one ofhis fellow-directors. "Capital? We can find the capital. It will bea tight squeeze, a terribly tight squeeze, but we'll do it with aslight margin to spare. Let me have a talk with the men, and I'llwarrant that, if they have the good sense I credit them with, we'llpull the thing off successfully."

  Without delay the managing director went down to Brocklington, where hehad what he called a straight talk with the firm's employees. He toldthem straight that if their whole-hearted co-operation were notforthcoming the works would have to close down, and that, with thepresent state of unemployment, it would be difficult, almostimpossible, for the six hundred hands to find work elsewhere.

  "I'm asking you to make sacrifices," he went on. "For the presentneither the directors nor the shareholders are making money, andnaturally we cannot run this business as a charity concern. Itherefore propose a general reduction of wages in order for us to quotecompetitive prices, so that we may secure the contract and provideconstant work for all. I am also authorized by the board of directorsto state that fifty per cent of the profits of the contract--mind youthat amount will be comparatively small--will be apportioned as a bonusto the workpeople."

  Before Captain Mostyn left Brocklington the matter was clinched, as faras the hands were concerned. There was a unanimous decision on thepart of the workpeople to back up the firm, and once this step wasdecided upon Captain Mostyn knew that the greatest obstacle wasremoved, and that British grit and determination on the part of theemployees would see the business through.

  The Brocklington Ironworks Company sent in their tender and waitedhopefully. Three months later came the news that they had secured thecontract, which had been quoted at L50,500.

  It was not the lowest tender. A couple of German firms were below thisestimate, owing to the low value of the mark. One, the AugsburgManufacturing Company, tendered at L30,000, while the Pfieldorf Companyof Chemnitz offered to supply and deliver the material for a trifleover L20,000. The rest of the competing firms tendered considerablyhigher than the Brocklington Ironworks Company.

  In the conditions of contract several "stiff" clauses had beeninserted. The Kilba Protectorate Government required the completion ofthe work, including delivery, by the end of March; failing which, aheavy penalty was to be inflicted. All the steelwork was to beexamined by competent inspectors, both in England and on the site, andany defective material was to be replaced at the contractors' expenseplus a fine equal to the value of the replaced work.

  Gallantly the employees of the Brocklington Ironworks Company rose tothe occasion. Work continued at high pressure in spite of sundrydifficulties. When the supply of coal ran short, the smelting furnaceswere fed with wood. When the railway companies dallied over thedelivery of iron-ore, a fleet of motor lorries brought the stuff directfrom the pits. Once, a series of unexplained explosions destroyed apart of the rolling mills, but within a week the machinery was inworking order again, and by the end of October the whole of thesteelwork was ready for the Government inspectors.

  It was to receive the report of the latter that Captain Mostyn had goneto town. At 8.50 Peter met his father at Trentham Regis station.

  "Why, Pater," exclaimed Peter, as his sire alighted, "what have youbeen doing--whitewashing?"

  Captain Mostyn glanced at his shoulder. His coat was speckled withwhite dust.

  "Oh, that," he replied carelessly. "I suppose it was when some fellowworking above the board-room fell through the ceiling. He wasn't hurt,only a bit scared. I'll tell you all about it later. What's more tothe point, Peter, the steelwork's passed the test with flying colours,and we're shipping it on Saturday on the S.S. _West Barbican_."

  "My new ship," announced Peter.