Jack had been aloft often and knew the curious feeling that comes over anovice at the work: that his weight must overbalance the slender hullbelow. But never had he experienced the sensation in such full measureas he did that night, clinging there panting, wet, bruised,half-exhausted, but yet with the fighting spirit within him unsubduedand still determined to win this furious battle against the elements.
As he clung there, catching his breath and coughing the salt water fromhis lungs, he recollected with a flash of satisfaction that he had hisrubber gloves in his pocket. These gloves are used for handling wires inwhich current might be on, and are practically shock-proof. Jack knewthat he would have to handle the aerials when he got aloft, and if hehad not his gloves with him, he would have stood the risk of getting asevere shock.
With one more glance down, in which he could perceive a dim, wetradiance surrounding the ship like a halo, proceeding from such lightsas still were aglow on board, the boy resumed his climb.
The most perilous part of it still lay before him. So far, he hadclimbed a good broad "ladder"--the ratlines stretched between the threestout steel shrouds. From the cross-trees to the top of the slendermast, there was but a single-breadth foothold between the two shroudsrunning from the tip of the foremast to the cross-trees.
Far above him, cut off from his vision by darkness and flying scud, Jackknew that the footpath he had to follow narrowed to less than a foot inbreadth. At that height the vicious kicking of the mast must betremendous.
It was equivalent to being placed on the end of a giant, pliable whipwhile a Gargantuan Brobdingnagian driver tried to flick you off.
But Jack gritted his teeth, and through the screeching wind began thelast lap of his soul-rasping ascent.
He was flung about till his head swam. His ascent was pitifully slow andtortuous. The reeling mast seemed to have a vicious determination tohurtle him through space into the vortex of waters below him, over whichhe was swung dizzily hither and yon.
But at last, somehow, with reeling brain, cut and bleeding hands andexhausted limbs, he reached the summit and stretched out cramped fingersfor the aerials.
With the other hand he clung to the shrouds, and with legs wrapped roundthem in a death-like grip, he was dashed back and forth through midairlike a shuttle-cock.
CHAPTER VII
QUARTERMASTER SCHULTZ VOLUNTEERS
Clinging with his interlocked lower limbs, Jack managed to draw on hisinsulated rubber gloves. Then he fumbled, with fear gripping at his coldheart, for his electric torch, which every wireless man carries for justsuch emergencies.
He pressed the button and a small, pitifully small, arc of light fell onthe aerials where they were secured to the mast. Far beneath him on thebridge, the first officer and the wondering captain--who had beensummoned from his berth--watched the infinitesimal fire-fly of light asit flickered and swayed at the top of the mast.
The storm wrack flew low and at times it was shut out from their gazealtogether. At such times both men gripped the rail with a dreadful fearthat the brave lad, working far above them, had paid the penalty of hisdevotion to duty with his life.
But every time that they looked up after such a temporary extinguishmentof the flickering light, they saw it still winking like the tinynight-eye of a gnome above them in dark space.
With fingers dulled by the thick rubber covering which he dared notremove, Jack worked among the aerial terminals. One by one he countedthe strands.
One, two, three, four, five.
Yes, they were all there. But he did not count them as fast as that.Instead, between the fingering of one and another an interval of tenminutes might elapse, during which time he was flung from pole to pole,dry mouthed and dizzy.
Then came a sudden flash of lightning outlining the rigging, the steelhull far below him, the anxious figures on the bridge and the angryheavens in blue, glaring flame. But Jack had no eye for this. The suddenlight had shown him a jagged rip in the insulation of the wires wherethey were joined to the mast rigging. Through this, current had beenleaking into the mast and robbing the aerials of their power of sendingor receiving, short circuiting the Hertzian waves.
Jack waited for a lull and then, almost dead with nausea and brainsickness from his wild buffeting, he reached for his electrician's tapeand began making hasty repairs on the electric leak. He bound coil aftercoil of the adhesive stuff around the exposed wire, till it wasblanketed beyond chance of "spilling" into the rain.
Then, his work done, he rested for an instant to steady his whirlingsenses, and then began the long descent.
Now that the job was over, he felt that he could never live to reach thedeck, miles and miles--hundreds and hundreds of miles--below him. Step bystep, though, he descended, fighting for his life against the sensenumbness that was creeping over him. Limbs and intelligence seemedequally absent. He felt as if he were a disembodied being, floatingthrough space on the wings of the storm.
He appeared to have no weight. Like a thistle bloom he thought that hemight be blown where the winds wished. Conquering this feeling, it wassucceeded by a leaden one. He was too heavy to move. His feet feltenormous, and heavy as a deep-sea diver's weighted boots. His head wasballoon-like and appeared to sway crazily on his shoulders.
But he still descended. Step by step, painfully, semi-consciously, thebrain-sick, nauseated boy clung to the ratlines. On his grip dependedhis life, and this, in a dim, stupid sort of way, he realized.
If he could only reach the cross-trees! Here he could rest incomparative security for a while.
He must reach them, he must! He wasn't going to die like this. A furiousfighting spirit came over him. His head suddenly cleared; the deadlynausea left him; his limbs grew light.
Jack shouted aloud and came swiftly down. He called out defiantly at thestorm. He raved, he yelled in wild delirium.
All at once he felt the cross-trees under his feet. With a last loud cryof triumph he sank down on the projecting steel pieces that formed, atany rate, a resting place.
Then came another wild swing of the ship, and a vicious gust.
Jack felt himself flung from the cross-trees and out into the dark voidof the storm.
Down, down, down he went, straight as a stone toward the dark, black,raging vortex through which the ship was fighting.
He felt rather than heard a despairing cry; but did not know whether ithad come from his lips or not.
Then a rushing dark cloud enveloped him, and with a fearful roaring inhis ears, Jack's senses swam out to sea.
"The light has disappeared, Metcalf. Do you think the poor lad is lost?"
Far below on the bridge, Captain McDonald, oil-skinned like his officer,peered upward.
"The good Lord alone knows, sir," was the fervent reply. "It was amadcap thing to do. I should never have let him go."
"It's done now," muttered the captain. "Though, had you consulted me, Ishould have forbidden it. That boy is the bravest of the brave."
"He is, sir. You may well say that. A seasoned sailorman might havehesitated to go aloft to-night."
"I wish to heaven I knew what had become of him and if he is safe, yet Iwouldn't order another man up there in this inferno."
There was a voice behind him.
"Vouldt you accepdt idt a volunteer, sir?"
"You, Schultz?" exclaimed the captain, turning around to the oldquartermaster who was just going off his trick of duty at the wheel."Why, man, you'd be taking your life in your hands."
"I've been up der masts of sheeps off der Horn on vorse nights dandees," was the calm reply. "Ledt me go, sir."
"You go at your own responsibility, then," was the reply. "I ought notto let you up at all, and yet that boy--go ahead, then."
The old German quartermaster saluted and was gone.
From the bridge they saw him for a moment, in the gleam of light from aporthole, crossing the wet deck.
He clambered into the shrouds and then began climbing upward along theperilous path Jack had alrea
dy traveled.
"Pray Heaven we have not two deaths to our account to-night, Metcalf,"said the captain earnestly to his first officer.
"Amen to that, sir," was the reply.
And then there was nothing but the shriek of the wind and the beat ofthe waves, while the two officers gazed piercingly upward into thedarkness where they knew not what tragedies might be taking place.
CHAPTER VIII
SAFE ONCE MORE
Suddenly Captain McDonald had an inspiration.
"Metcalf!" he cried, above the storm.
"Sir!" was the alert response of the _Tropic Queen's_ chief officer.
"Order the searchlight turned on that mast!"
One of the two quartermasters, struggling with the bucking, kickingwheel, was ordered to get the apparatus ready and focus it on theforemast.
The canvas hood was taken off the big light and then a switch snapped,sputtering bluely. A radiant spear of light pierced the night. Ithovered vaguely for a few instants and then settled on the foremast.
It revealed a thrilling scene. Schultz had clasped in his arms theunconscious form of Jack Ready. For the young wireless man, when hecollapsed, had been caught by a stay and held in position on thecross-trees.
Slowly, and with infinite caution, the old quartermaster began todescend the shrouds. It was a nerve-racking task to those looking on.Jack was not a light-weight, and the descent of his rescuer, claspingthe boy with one arm while he held on with all his strength, waspainfully slow.
But at last they reached the deck in safety, and Captain McDonald wasthere in person to meet them. He wrung Schultz's hand in a tight grip asthe old seaman stood pantingly before him.
"That was as brave a bit of work as I've seen done since I've been goingto sea, Schultz," he exclaimed. "I'll see to it that the company givesyou recognition. But now let us take this lad to my cabin. He's openinghis eyes and the doctor can give him something that will soon set him onhis feet again."
And so it proved. Half an hour after Jack had been laid on a lounge inthe skipper's cabin and restoratives had been administered by Dr. Flynn,he was feeling almost as hale and hearty as ever, although his terribleordeal when he was flung back and forth pendulum-wise had left him witha racking headache.
The captain showered congratulations on him, but reminded him that neveragain must he risk his life in such a perilous way.
"The job could have waited till daylight, anyhow," he said.
"I beg your pardon, sir," said Jack, firmly but respectfully, "it couldnot. You know that I was in communication with a ship--the yacht_Endymion_--when the insulation wore away and my 'juice' began to leak?"
"No, I knew no such thing," said the captain.
"Mr. Metcalf knew of it, sir."
"In all the excitement caused by your exploit, young man, he must haveforgotten to tell me."
"That was probably the reason, sir. But the _Endymion_----" The captainbroke in as if struck by some sudden thought.
"Jove, lad, the _Endymion_, you say?"
"Yes, sir, do you know her?"
"I know of her. She bears no good reputation. Once she was chartered tothe Haytian government and was used as a war ship; then she was in thesmuggling trade along the coast. The last I heard of her she was laid upin the marine Basin at Ulmer Park. Her history has been one of troubles.Do you feel strong enough to go back to your key?"
"Yes, sir," exclaimed Jack eagerly. "Young Smalley, my assistant, is tooseasick to work to-night. I'll take the trick right through."
"Good for you, my boy. I'll see that you are no sufferer by it. By theway, did the _Endymion_ have any message? Was she in trouble?"
"No, sir, but they wished to give some sort of a radio to a Mr. JamesJarrold, one of the first-class passengers."
The captain tapped his foot musingly on the polished wood floor of hiscabin.
"Odd," he mused, "I wonder what possible communication they could haveto make to him. Is Jarrold a heavy-set man with a blue, square jaw andbristly, black hair?"
"Yes, sir, that is the man to the dot."
"I have noticed him at dinner. He sits at the first officer's table.Back in my head I've got a sort of indefinable idea that I've seen himsomewhere before, but just where I cannot, for the life of me, call tomind just now."
"It is too bad that the aerials went out of commission just as thatother operator was starting to give the message."
"It was, indeed, but you must try now to pick up this _Endymion_ again.I'm curious to know more of her and of our mysterious passenger."
"I'll report to you the instant I get anything, sir," Jack assured him,and hurried off.
On the way he passed Schultz and put out his hand with direct,sailor-like bluntness.
"You saved my life to-night, Schultz. I'll never forget it," he saidsimply, but there was a wealth of feeling behind the quiet words.
"Oh, dot makes it no nefer mindt, Yack," said the old German. "Don't getexcitedt ofer idt. Idt vos just a yob dot hadt to be done und I diddedidt."
"It was a great deal more than that," said Jack, with warmth. "I hopesome day I will get a chance to repay you."
But Schultz, embarrassed and red as a beet under his tan, had hurriedoff. Like most sailors, Schultz hated sentiment. To him, his daring deedof saving Jack from his perilous perch in the cross-trees had been allin the line of duty.
Back in the wireless room once more, Jack looked in on Sam. The boy wassitting up in bed staring feverishly out into the wireless room.
"Oh, Jack, I'm glad you have come back!" he exclaimed. "Where have youbeen?"
"Fixing a little job of work, youngster. Something was wrong with thewireless. How do you feel?"
"Better, but oh, what a head! It's the worst feeling I ever knew!"
"Like something to eat?"
"For heaven's sake, don't mention it! The mere thought makes me feel badagain. But, listen, Jack, I've something to tell you. I wakened abouthalf an hour ago and there was a man out there in the wireless room."
"What?"
Jack had temporarily forgotten all about Jarrold. Now Sam's remarkbrought the earlier scene back to him. What had Jarrold been doing inthe wireless room while he was absent?
CHAPTER IX
THE MIDNIGHT INTRUDER
"He was stooping over the desk, rummaging about the papers anddispatches," said Sam in response to Jack's eager questions.
"Did he take anything?" asked Jack.
"I don't know. I called out to him and asked him what he was doing."
"Yes; what did he say?"
"He didn't say a word. Just hurried out. Who was he?"
"A man named Jarrold. He's a first-cabin passenger. He came in here thisevening and was much interested in getting first news of a yacht calledthe _Endymion_."
"I don't like his looks."
"Frankly, neither do I, and yet one cannot let a man's appearance countagainst him. But if he was rummaging about that desk, that is anothermatter."
"I think he knows something about wireless himself. I saw him fiddlingwith the key."
"At any rate, I'll keep a close eye on Mr. Jarrold," Jack promisedhimself. "I don't quite know what all this means, but I bet I'll findout before it's over!"
There was not much more sleep for Sam that night. He fought bravelyagainst his seasickness and took the key for a time while Jack stole acatnap. Both boys worked hard to get in touch with the _Endymion_ oncemore, but they failed to raise her operator. So far as Jack could makeout, nothing had been taken from the desk by Jarrold; and the boy cameto the conclusion that the man, disbelieving his word, had searched thedesk for some evidence of a previous message from the _Endymion_.
At breakfast the next morning Jarrold, cleanly shaven around his bluechin, appeared in the saloon of the ship accompanied by a very prettyyoung lady, who, Jack learned, was his niece, Miss Jessica Jarrold. Theman did not raise his glance to Jack, although the latter eyed himconstantly. The young woman, though, regarded Jack with a somewhatcurious gaze from tim
e to time. He was pretty sure in his own mind thatshe knew of the events of the night.
In fact, she made it a point to leave the table at the same time as didJack. As they both emerged on deck through the companionway sheaddressed him.
"Have you heard anything more of the _Endymion_?" she asked.
Although the sea was still running high, the sky was clear and theweather good. She steadied herself against a stanchion as the shippitched, and Jack found himself thinking that she made a pretty picturethere. She was clad in a loose, light coat, and bareheaded, except for ascarf passed over a mass of auburn hair, from which a few rebelliouswind-blown curls escaped.
Jack raised his uniform cap.
"Nothing, Miss Jarrold," he said. "Your----"
"My uncle," she continued for him, "is very anxious to be informed assoon as you do hear."
"Of course, the captain will have to be told first," he said. Her darkeyes snapped and she bit her lip with a row of perfectly even, gleaminglittle teeth.
"Can't it be arranged so that my uncle can know first about it?" shesaid, breaking into a smile after her momentary display of irritation."Suppose you told--well, me, for instance."
"I would be only too glad to do anything to oblige you, Miss Jarrold,"said Jack deferentially, "but that is out of the question."
"But why?" she demanded.
The Ocean Wireless Boys and the Lost Liner Page 3
