CHAPTER XII--"SUN, MOON AND STARS"
"The Mercedes in the lead," announced Ben Dixon.
"All right," returned Tom Barnes.
The buzzer was going merrily; Tom was on his professional mettle andthoroughly enjoying himself. He was tallying off the information shouteddown in sections through the tower skylight by his faithful assistant.
Ben, astride a cross arm beam of the old windmill, balanced an elongatedtelescope seaward focussed on several yachts engaged in a race.
It had been part of the day's instructions received that morning fromheadquarters for the operators at Station Z to watch out and announcethe order in which the yachts passed Rockley Cove. The information waswanted for newspapers and persons interested at the starting point ofthe race. The names and pennant colors of the various craft had beenfurnished to Tom, and Ben was able, with this basis to work from, toreport like an expert.
"_Druid_ second," he announced sharply two minutes later.
The entire flotilla had passed within half an hour, and Ben descendedinto the operating room.
"That was easy and pleasant," he observed.
"Say, Tom, we've got a dandy plant here, and no mistake."
Tom replied by nodding in a gratified way, and glancing with pride andapproval at the well-ordered equipment about him.
Tom was now a duly authorized operator in the service of theInternational Wireless Company. Mr. Mason had carried out the plansoutlined during his original talk with Tom, and that rising youngwireless operator was now working on instructions and a liberal salary,and had over five hundred dollars in the bank.
Mr. Morgan had insisted on Tom accepting a check for two hundred dollarsas a slight recognition of his service in respect to the United Calciumsecurities.
What pleased Tom most of all, however, was that he was given theprivilege of employing extra help when in his judgment the same wasrequired, and Ben was put in a way to earn many a welcome dollar.
Station Z was not in the regular service. It was maintained by theInternational Wireless Company as a sort of demonstration station. Theobject was to do little commercial business, but to pick up importantmessages sent in cases of emergency. The purpose of the company was todemonstrate to the general public the chance utility of an isolatedstation.
Tom had paid Mr. Edson the hundred dollars, he had secured the lease ofthe station site, had returned to Harry Ashley the money borrowed fromhim, and was a happy, hopeful enthusiast, every day learning more andmore concerning the wonderful wireless.
He sat back in his chair now, comfortable and at ease, with thesatisfaction of a person understanding his business and doing his duty.Ben swung back luxuriously in a hammock they had rigged up in one cornerof the room. The sunshine was bright, the air balmy, the searefreshingly blue and cool looking, and both boys enjoyed the acme ofcomfort and satisfaction.
"I say, Tom," began Ben lazily, after a spell of indolent rest, "whatabout that letter? Did you bring it?"
"Oh yes," answered Tom, feeling in the pocket of his coat. "Here it is."
Ben took a mussed-up envelope from the hand of his chum. It was directedin crooked, printed letters: "mister tom barns."
"I found it stuck under our front door last night, as I told you,"recounted Tom, and Ben perused the enclosed sheet covered withstraggling words and sentences, and read it aloud:
"Warnin to tom barns, keep yure own turtory, or it'l be the worst fer you and yer frens. sined: the Black Kaps."
"Sort of blood-curdling, eh, Ben?" mused Tom.
"It don't scare you one little bit?"
"Not a particle."
"What does it mean?"
"Why, Ben, the only way I can figure out, is that the so-called BlackCaps are in active operation again."
"Phew!" observed Ben, and fell into a prolonged fit of musing. Both heand Tom were quite familiar with the past operations of that sinisterconcern. Like all country communities, Rockley Cove had someundesirables. Over the village line, in fact, between it and theresidence of the Morgans, was a little community of fishermen whosesocial condition was not very high.
One particular family with numerous branches was quite notorious. Thename was Barber, and the younger members of the family constituted anuncouth and troublesome set. They and some neighboring lads formed whatthey called a secret society called the "Black Caps." They soon becamethe terror of adjoining communities.
Out of pure perversity they stole fishing nets and tackle, robbedfarmers' hen roosts, and dismantled yachts and yawls. When thesepilferings were brought home to them, they destroyed fishing outfits,scuttled boats, and burned down several haystacks. Six of them werefinally arrested, and among the witnesses against them were Tom and Ben.The young desperadoes, who had established a dead line over which fewRockley Cove boys dared to venture, were locked up in the county jailfor thirty days and in addition their parents had to pay fines for them.
All this had happened about a year before Station Z was started. TheBlack Caps had been disrupted, it seemed, and Tom had heard little ofthe Barbers for some time. If they continued their former maraudingcourse, it was in some new territory, for they neither noticed normolested any more Rockley Cove boys or property.
Now, however, the old-time tactics so common in the past had beenrevived, it seemed, as witness the warning note Tom had received. It wasover this that Ben was cogitating. Finally Tom expressed an opinion.
"I can't account for any fresh antipathy on the part of the Barbers," hesaid, "unless it is because they see me going down to Mr. Morgan's onceor twice a week."
"I'll bet that's it," exclaimed Ben. "You generally take the cut inlandnear the settlement, don't you, Tom?"
"Nearly always."
"That must be it, then. They think you are sort of watchingthem--invading their territory, as they call it. I don't think, though,they would cut up very rough with you."
"Why not?"
"Well, Bill Barber said before he got out of jail you had made up fortelling what you had to tell against him, by pleading with the judge tolet them off light for a first offence."
"I shall not lose any sleep over the terrible warning," laughed Tomlightly.
"I'd take the beach road when I went up to see Grace Morgan, though, ifI were you," suggested Ben. "Talking of something else, Tom, have yousaid anything to Harry along the 'Donner' line?"
"Not a word. Our mysterious spook seems to have given up his erraticmessages."
"That name, 'Donner,' struck Harry all of a heap, just the same."
"Well, he's a fine fellow, and I'm not going to pry into his secrets."
"I wonder what old 'Donner' was after, anyhow?" observed Ben, "with hismysterious 'messages,' and his 'thousand dollars.'"
"And the boy with the sun, moon and stars on his left shoulder," smiledTom.
No orders had come to Station Z for work that night, and at five o'clockthe boys locked up the tower. They parted when they reached the village,Ben taking the road south and Tom proceeding homeward alone.
He was up in his room changing his working clothes, when his motherappeared at the bottom of the stairs to tell him that Ben Dixon was onthe telephone.
"Ben wants you to call him up before you go out to-night," advised Mrs.Barnes.
"All right," sang down Tom.
He forgot all about Ben when he came downstairs, full of his plans forthe evening. Grace Morgan had invited him down to Fernwood, so Tom hadasked his mother to give him an early supper. Then, in the bustle ofgetting a lift as far as the crossroads in a passing rig, he left thehouse in a great hurry, and never thought of his chum again until heleft the wagon.
"I won't go back," decided Tom. "It can't be anything very particularBen wants to see me about. I've got plenty of time, too, and can strollaround his way before I go to see Grace."
Tom passed down the winding road, but on the way ringing boyish shoutsbeyond a thicket caused him to deviate from his course. As he came towhere a fringe of shrubbery lined the banks of Silve
r Brook, he nearlyran into a man who stood peering past them at a merry group of boyssporting in the sparkling waters of the stream.
There was so much that was ill-favored in the face of the man, somethingso sinister in his pose, that it suggested to Tom the lurker with apurpose. Tom halted and regarded the man closely. Then he peered pasthim at the group sporting in the water.
Their leader was Harry Ashley, and he was in great evidence. At justthat moment he was giving them a specimen of rapid hand over hand waterclimbing. His admiring friends cheered as Harry made a marvelous dash ofsome fifty yards, described a disappearing dive with wonderfuldexterity, and, coming to the surface, landed on a rock not twenty feetaway from the observing stranger and Tom, and stood shaking the waterfrom hair and face.
"Ah-h!" suddenly exclaimed the strange man, craning his neck, losing hisbalance, falling flat; and then, discovering Tom, he scowled at him, andsuddenly disappeared in the underbrush.
"The mischief!" ejaculated Tom, as he too glanced at Harry.
The back of the latter was towards him. Tom experienced a queer thrillas he saw what the stranger had also seen.
Upon Harry Ashley's left shoulder, plainly tattooed, was a sun, a moonand some stars!
Boys of the Wireless; Or, A Stirring Rescue from the Deep Page 12
