The Ocean Wireless Boys on the Atlantic

by John Henry Goldfrap

  He was still struggling with the mystery when there came another suddensound.

  Jack recognized it instantly as the noise of an oar moving in a rowlock.

  A boat was moving about in the dark obscurity between the ship and thedock. Peering over, Jack could see the dim outlines of the little craftmoving slowly about far below where he stood.

  Then of a sudden another of those mysterious bundles dropped from thefire-room.

  He saw the boat impelled toward it as it lay floating, and then it washoisted on board.

  “What black work is going on here?” thought the young wireless man as hewatched.

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  CHAPTER XXIV.

  A CALL FOR THE POLICE.

  Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, the true meaning of the scene goingon below him dawned on the lad.

  The tobacco smugglers! The men who worked with the gang of customscheaters, with their headquarters across the dark river in New Jersey!

  Yes; that was undoubtedly the explanation of it. What was he to do? Gobelow and alarm the engineer in charge of the fire-room crowd? No; theman was only an apprentice engineer, as young Ready knew, and more thanprobably he was in with the gang himself.

  Back and forth moved the boat, dodging in and out of the black shadowscast by the dock. It was an ideal night for such work. The fog laythick, like a blanket laid over river and city.

  Through the curtain of mist boomed the hoarse voices of tugs andferryboats as they played a marine game of blind man’s buff in the fog.Jack felt terribly alone. He might have summoned help from the dock, butthe rising and falling noise of the riot, which was evidently still inprogress, told him that the men in charge of the wharf already had theirhands full.

  All at once the boy had one of those swift flashes of inspiration thatcome sometimes like a bolt from the blue in moments of great emergency.

  He would summon the police by wireless!

  The police boats, as he knew, lay at Pier A, the Battery, with steamconstantly up, so as to be able to dart off on the instant after wharfthieves and smugglers. They all carried wireless and he would be certainto catch an operator on duty. At any rate, there was a wireless attachedto the marine police station itself, which was situated in a bigbuilding adjacent to the Aquarium.

  With Jack to think was to act. He was swift, to spring to his key andbegin sending out a call. He looked the code word up in his book andalmost instantly the heavy spark began crackling and snapping out asummons:

  “H.-P.-----H.-P.-----H.-P.” “Harbor Police! Harbor Police! Harbor Police!”

  Cracking like the lash of a giant whip, writhing like a tortured serpentof flame, the lithe, green spark leaped between its points. Never hadJack’s fingers worked so fast. Before he could summon the guardians ofthe harbor it might be too late. The boat might have gathered up itscargo of contraband and sneaked off like a thief in the night into theimpenetrable fog.

  At last, after an interminable wait, came an answer from out of space.

  “This is H. P. What is it?”

  “This is the tank steamer _Ajax_, lying at Pier 29, North River.”

  “Yes, yes, yes.”

  The answer came mapping back from amid a mystifying maze of other flyingdots and dashes.

  “There is a gang of tobacco smugglers at work here!”

  “The dickens, you say! Hold on a minute.”

  “All right. But you must hurry men up here if you want to nail them.”

  “Who are you?”

  “The wireless man of the _Ajax_. I was here late and saw the work goingon.”

  “Bully for you! We’ll rush _Launch B_ up there on the jump.”

  “Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!” chattered back Jack’s key; and then silence fellonce more.

  Jack jumped up from his sending table.

  “At any rate, I’ve done my duty,” he thought.

  He went to the door. He wanted to look down into the black fog-filledpit overside once more and see what was going on. Glancing cautiouslyover, he almost gave a gasp of delight.

  A second boat was at work!

  “My gracious, if they get here in time they’ll make a fine haul ofdoubtful fish!” he said to himself in a low voice.

  The words were hardly out of his mouth when he felt a heavy hand on hisshoulder. He was spun round like a top and found himself in the clasp ofa giant fireman. The hairy-chested fellow was naked from the waist up,and his coal-smeared face and blood-shot eyes did not add to the beautyof his appearance.

  Suddenly the man’s grip transferred itself to Jack’s neck. The fingers,hard as iron, closed on his windpipe. He felt his breath shut off andhis eyes starting out of his head. The man threw him roughly to thedeck, and as he did so Jack recognized in him the sailor who had hungback when the boat was to be launched to the rescue of the derelict, andwhose place he had taken. The fellow had been transferred to thefire-room force as a punishment.

  The boy could feel the giant’s hot breath fanning his face as the manknelt over him, one knee crushingly on his chest.

  “So, my young gamecock, you bane play the spy, hey?” he snarled. “Youbane forgat everything you seen, or overboard you go with yourfigurehead stove in!”

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  CHAPTER XXV.

  IN THE NICK OF TIME.

  The blood sang loudly in Jack’s ears. He fought for breath against theremorseless pressure on his throat. But the two great, gnarled hands ofthe fireman held him as if in a steel vise.

  “You bane forgat what you see! You bane forgat it!”

  The Norwegian emphasized what he said with a bump of Jack’s head againstthe deck at every word.

  Twisting in what he felt was his death struggle, Jack managed to loosenthe man’s hold ever so little. It was no time to consider fair tactics.

  Seizing the advantage he had gained, the boy sank his teeth deep intothe man’s arm.

  With a yell of pain, the fellow relaxed his grip, and in a flash Jackwas on his feet, while the Norwegian, disconcerted at this suddenattack, lay sprawling on the deck. As he arose, staggeringly, Jack dealthim a smashing blow in the face, but it only staggered the fellow for aninstant. It could have been little more than a mosquito prick to hisbull hide.

  Roaring with rage, the fellow tore at Jack, who, feeling that his lifewas at stake, tried to make a dart for the door of the wireless cabin.But the man was too quick for him. He caught the boy in the embrace of amaddened wild beast.

  “I bane keel you for that, you young demon!” he cried, and bore Jacktoward the rail.

  “Don’t! Don’t!” implored the boy, who felt that his last moment hadcome. But the brute showed no mercy. Deliberately he raised the boy, whowas no more than a featherweight, in his arms, and was about to cast himinto the water when suddenly something unexpected occurred.

  A bulky form rushed upon the scene, and the next instant the sailor wentstaggering back under a crashing blow. Simultaneously a revolver flashedand a harsh, stern voice exclaimed:

  “Don’t move a step or I’ll shoot you down like the mongrel cur you are!”

  “Captain Braceworth!” gasped out Jack, who could hardly keep his feet.

  “That’s who it is, youngster, and just in time to save your life, Iimagine. I happened to be not far off and they summoned me to the dockto quell that riot. When that was done I came on board, and I’m glad Idid. Don’t move, you despicable dog!” This to the fireman, who wastrying to sneak off.

  At almost the same instant there came from below the sound of a pistolshot.

  “What in Neptune’s name does that mean?” demanded the captain. “What’shappening to this ship?”

  “I think I can explain, sir,” said Jack, while the captain still keptthe cowering fireman covered.

&nb
sp; “Then do so by all means, and then I’ll trouble you to get me a pair ofhandcuffs from my cabin for this fellow.”

  “It’s this way, sir. To-night I came on board to get some bits ofapparatus and a book or two that I had left in my cabin. I happened tosee a big bundle dropped into the water and then I saw a boat cruisingabout. I summoned the harbor police by wireless.”

  “Jove! You’re not called ‘Ready’ for nothing!” exclaimed the captain,eyeing the boy with unconcealed admiration.

  “And then, sir, this man saw what I had been up to and threatened tokill me if I told.”

  “A threat, I believe, he is perfectly capable of carrying out. Don’tmove there, you,” to the fireman. “I see it all now. That struggle onthe dock was a blind to keep the watchman’s attention attracted whilethe smugglers got that stuff out of the bunkers. Ready, you’ve foiled aclever plot.”

  More shots came from below.

  “It’s the police, sir!” exclaimed Jack, “and I guess they’ve come intime.”

  Just then a police sergeant appeared on the upper deck. He had come onboard from the dock, having been summoned with a file of men by the oldwatchman. He looked astonished, as well he might, at the picture beforehim: a white-faced, shaking boy, a sullen, whipped cur of a fireman anda stalwart seaman covering the man with a revolver. From below, wherethe police were rounding up the smugglers, who put up a desperateresistance, also came sounds of conflict.

  “Sergeant, if you’ll handcuff this man, I’ll explain all this in a braceof shakes,” said the captain. He speedily did so to the officer’ssatisfaction, and the malefactor was led off, after Jack had promised toappear against him in the morning when the case came up in court.

  As for the gang in the boats, they, too, were rounded up after severalshots had been exchanged without bloodshed. Jack was warmlycongratulated by the police, and it was late before he was able to slipoff home to the schooner.

  He found his uncle anxiously waiting up for him, and Jack told his storywith as little melodrama in it as he could. But his throat was rapidlyturning black and blue where his assailant had grasped him, and hisuncle would not hear of the lad’s turning in till it had been anointedwith Captain Ready’s “Bruise Balm and Sore Soother.”

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  CHAPTER XXVI.

  A FRIENDLY WARNING.

  The next day in court the fireman, whose name, by the way, was LarsAnderson, and all the other smugglers were held for the higher tribunalsof the federal government, under whose jurisdiction their cases, withthe exception of Anderson’s, came.

  Heavy sentences were prophesied for all of them. Many were the blackglances cast at Jack by the gang as they were led away. But thesemalicious looks did not come alone from the malefactors. Out in thecourtroom was gathered a hard-looking crowd.

  Coal passers and firemen of the _Ajax_ against whom nothing could beproved, although it was morally certain that they were connected withthe gang, had gathered there to see how it fared with their companions.When Jack was giving his testimony he saw many malevolent glances fixedon him, and one man went so far as to shake his fist covertly at thelad.

  But Jack did not falter, and gave his story in a manly, straightforwardfashion that won him the approval of the court and the respect of theattorneys. He left the courtroom with Mr. Brown, the captain having goneuptown with some friends.

  As they passed out of the door the firemen who had witnessed the scenewithin were gathered about the doorway. They eyed Jack scowlingly andmore than one muttered threat was heard.

  As soon as they had passed out of earshot, Mr. Brown spoke seriously toJack.

  “I’d be very careful how I went about New York at night after this, if Iwere you,” he said.

  “Why?” asked Jack innocently.

  “Simply because those fellows have it in for you.”

  “But this is New York City. Surely they wouldn’t dare——”

  “They’d dare anything fast enough if they could get you up a darkstreet,” said the mate sententiously.

  “But they’ll be sailing with us again, anyhow,” said Jack.

  “They will not!” said Mr. Brown with emphasis. “But recollect that someof them are desperate characters. Firemen, some of them at least, are asbad as they make ’em. You’ve sent their pals to jail. Very well then,their code of justice requires them to avenge themselves on you. So lookout for squalls!”

  “Oh, I’ll be careful,” laughed Jack as they shook hands and parted.

  At the Brooklyn Bridge he paused to buy a paper. The first thing thatcaught his eye made him flush and then laugh.

  There at the top of the page and spread out over two columns was aportrait of himself, drawn by an artist possessed of a vividimagination, inasmuch as he had never seen Jack.

  Then there was a half-tone of the _Ajax_, labeled “Scene of theThrilling Battle for Life.”

  Underneath came headlines:

  WIRELESS HERO BATTLES FOR HIS LIFE WITH TOBACCO SMUGGLING GANG.

  JACK READY HERO OF NIGHT FIGHT ON THE FREIGHTER “AJAX.”

  Message to Police Wings the Air and Results in Capture of Daring, Desperate Band.

  “Well, that’s going some, as Raynor would say,” laughed Jack, hardlyknowing whether to be amused or indignant.

  “There’s one satisfaction,” he thought as he rode over the bridge on asurface car and digested the long interview with himself that he hadnever given, “nobody would ever recognize me from that picture.”

  A few days later Jack received a letter from the company. It enclosed ahandsome check “for valuable and appreciated services.” This time Jackdid not return the check.

  “Still,” he mused, “if it had not been for Captain Braceworth, theremight have been a different story to tell.”

  The letter, however, delighted him more than he showed. It demonstratedfor one thing that the company appreciated what he had done, and that,if all continued to go well, he was in the line of promotion. He dreamednight and day of his next step upward, and longed for a berth on one ofthe Titan Steamship Company’s coasting vessels that ran to Galveston andCentral American and West Indian ports. They carried passengers, andthey paid their operators much more than the _Ajax_ class of wirelessmen received.

  “If I can only get some more opportunities to show what I can do,”thought the boy, “I’m bound to get on. ‘Keep plugging,’ my dad used tosay, and that is just what I am going to do, no matter how manydiscouragements or hardships I meet. And then, perhaps, some day——”

  Jack went off into a day dream, and it was an odd thing that his reverieled him into a sudden determination to seek out Captain Dennis at theaddress that had been given him, and to call on the captain. Perhapsthere was another member of the captain’s household that Jack wasanxious to see, too!

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  CHAPTER XXVII.

  AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.

  He found Captain Dennis installed in a pleasant, though small, flat inthat section of New York known as Greenwich Village. It is a queer oldquarter, full of once fashionable houses with dormer windows and whitedoorsteps, and some of them with shutters. Captain Dennis had beenunable to find another ship, and was working for a ship chandler. But hebore up bravely under his misfortunes, and as for his daughter Jackthought that she was the most charming, enslaving bit of buddingwomanhood he had ever seen.

  Under the circumstances it is not surprising that the young wireless mandid not need to be pressed to stay to supper. How the time flew! CaptainDennis dozed and only took part at times in the lively chatter of youngReady and his “little gal,” but Jack did not find anything to object toabout this, you may be su
re.

  When at last he left with the promise to come soon again and his headfull of plans for a “regular party” on the old _Venus_, he found a raw,foggy night outside, and at that late hour the streets of theold-fashioned quarter almost deserted.

  Now the streets of Greenwich Village twist and turn, as somebody hassaid, “like a giant pretzel.” Tenth Street crosses Eleventh Street, andEighth Street runs through both of them in this topsy-turvy old quarter.

  Jack’s course lay for the elevated station at Eighth Street, but, whatwith the fog and his unfamiliarity with the section, he found himselfutterly lost after a short time, wandering about with no idea where hewas.

  But to his nostrils came a whiff of the sea, and he suddenly bethoughthimself of the fact that, although there were no late passers-by orpolicemen to be seen in “the village,” he might be able to find somebodyon the waterfront who would direct him.

  “I’m a fine sailor to lose my bearings like this,” he scolded himself ashe bent his steps in that direction.

  If the village had been deserted, there was plenty of life—and life of avery doubtful sort—on the waterfront. Saloons blazed with light, andfrom within came discordant sounds of disorderly choruses and songs.These places were the haunt of ’longshoremen, stevedores and the lowerclass of sailors from the big liners, whose docks ranged northward in amajestic line.