Brighton Boys in the Radio Service

by James R. Driscoll

  CHAPTER V

  THE FIGHT IN THE WIRELESS ROOM

  "Oh my; oh, my!" wailed Slim weakly, his head hanging over the side ofhis bunk. "I never felt worse in all my life. I never felt half sosick."

  "Never mind," urged Joe, soothingly, "you'll soon be feeling betternow."

  "Yes, _he_ will," moaned Jerry, miserably, from the opposite bunk; "_he_will, but I won't."

  The wind howled, the big ship gave a forward and downward lurch, andJerry would have slid from his bunk but for the quick action of Joe.

  "I think I'm going to die. I wish I would," gasped the red-headed boywhen he was again laid out at full length. "I had the measles and themumps at the same time once, but I never felt like this. Why don't theysteer this old boat through the waves, instead of trying to jump herover them?"

  "There's a heavy sea running," explained Joe; "that's what makes the_Everett_ ride so roughly."

  "Wish I was back at Brighton," Slim groaned dismally.

  Two hardy youths strolling along the deck, who hadn't been touched bythe epidemic of seasickness, stopped to peer in at the porthole. Theyhad mischief in their eyes, and as they caught sight of Slim'shumorously pathetic countenance, one of them muttered in a low butdistinct voice: "How'd you like to have some fried sausage, and someplum pudding, and some----"

  "Shut up!" bawled out Jerry with what strength he had left.

  With a loud laugh the two withdrew their heads and disappeared.

  At that moment the ship's physician, accompanied by LieutenantMackinson, arrived to give what further comfort he could to the seasicklads.

  "It is clearing," the lieutenant told them, while the doctor measuredout a powder for each boy. "The wind has died down and the sea isbecoming calm."

  "Oh, yes," the physician added, "in an hour or so you will be feelingbetter than you did before. Seasickness has a tonic effect, but it'srather a bitter dose."

  "Sure is," said Slim weakly.

  Nevertheless, it was just about an hour later that Jerry, feeling hisnausea leave him almost as suddenly as it had appeared, raised himselfon one elbow and looked across at his companion in misery.

  "How do you feel, Slim?" he inquired.

  "Almost human again," the stout lad replied.

  "Going to get up?"

  "Guess I can in a few minutes."

  "I'm going to try it now," said Jerry. "Seems as if the pilot of thisferry had learned to steer her a whole lot better than he did earlier inthe day."

  "Yep," agreed Slim, sliding from his bunk. "Certainly was tough, wasn'tit?"

  "I feel sort of weak in the legs yet," said Jerry, by way of answer."Let's go up on deck and get some fresh air."

  "Stomach feels as empty as a vacant house; how's yours?" Slim inquired.

  "Nothing in it but the lining, and I guess most of that's pried loose.We've got to wait more than two hours for mess, too."

  "How about some fried sausage, and some plum pudding, and some----"

  Jerry laughed for the first time that day. "That fellow certainly didmake me mad," he admitted.

  "Yeh, he made you mad," said Slim in a remorseful tone, "but he made mesick."

  On deck a hundred or more vigorous young men were exercising theirmuscles in various forms of athletic sport. Here a group crowded arounda contest in broad jumping, eagerly echoing the distances made, andthere the men of another throng loudly applauded their favorites in astiff boxing bout, while on another part of the deck a pair ofone-hundred-and-eighty-pound huskies were struggling in a friendlywrestling match.

  A bright sun shone upon a sparkling sea, and the air was just crispenough to be invigorating. At that moment Joe came up to inquire how histwo chums felt.

  "Fine," declared Jerry.

  "Like a two-year-old," added Slim. "That doctor was telling the truth. Ibelieve I never felt better in my life," and he began flapping his armsup and down like a rooster flails the air with its wings.

  "A fat man's race three times around the ship!" a youth yelled, spyingSlim's activities.

  "Hurrah!" cried the crowd. "Get them started."

  The jumpers, the wrestlers, and the boxers immediately suspended theirrespective contests to enjoy the innovation.

  Slim was trying to back away, protesting that he "couldn't run for acent," when a familiar, smiling countenance intruded itself in thecircle of good-natured faces with the suggestion: "Well, how about aplum pudding, then?"

  Slim and Jerry at once recognized him as the youth who had similarlysuggested a plum pudding, also sausage, at a most inopportune time.

  "Have you got one?" Slim demanded, his spirit aroused.

  "Sure have," announced the other, "and I'll make it the stake."

  Another shout went up as a second group pushed before Slim another youthwho, so far as size, shape and avoirdupois was concerned, might havebeen his twin brother. They looked at each other and both burst into ahearty laugh.

  "Hello, Skinny," said the stranger.

  "Howdy, Delicate?" Slim came back at him, quick as a flash. "Want torace?"

  "Don't particularly want to race," responded the other lad, "but I'mawfully fond of plum pudding."

  "And sausage?"

  "Is there going to be a sausage in it, too?" asked the stranger,evidencing increasing interest.

  "Only yourself," Slim announced, laughing and jumping back quickly toavoid any belligerency his joke might inspire in the other.

  But he took the joke as good-naturedly as he did the howls of delightfrom the crowd, and the two peeled off their coats and discarded theirhats as a couple of youths marked off the starting and finishing line,while others "cleared the deck for action."

  "This will be the tape," said a tall lean fellow, as he tied one end ofa string to the rail, at a point just above the starting line. "Afteryou have passed here the second time we'll stretch this out, and thefirst one to touch it will be the winner."

  "Right," said the fat boys together, leaning over in true sprinterfashion so far as their stomachs would permit them to stoop.

  One of the one-hundred-and-eighty-pound wrestlers winked to his comradesand hurried down into the lower part of the ship on some mysteriouserrand.

  "One, two, three--Go!" shouted the self-constituted referee.

  And Slim and Delicate went! True, neither of them got what sportsmenwould call "a flying start," but they got away, nevertheless, and withall the grace and speed of--two loaded hay wagons.

  "Whoopee!" yelled one in the crowd. "Look at 'em go! You can't see 'emfor dust!"

  "Two dollars on the knock-kneed guy," shouted another.

  Slim turned his head for the fraction of a second to learn whether thisinsult had been directed at him, and his opponent gained a lead of afoot.

  "Go it, you deerhounds," shrilled an Irish tenor in the crowd. "Workyour feet, not your arms."

  "The elephant leads; come on, you whale!" shouted another.

  By this time the runners had made the curve at the bow of the boat andwere coming up the starboard side, toward the stern.

  On the nearest armed convoy an officer was taking in the contest througha pair of marine glasses, and apparently enjoying it immensely.

  "Hooray! Hooray!" yelled the crowd of onlookers as Slim spurted and thepair rounded the stern and came down to the tape at the end of theirfirst lap, neck and neck. Both were puffing like porpoises.

  "Hey, Sausage, you've got a flat tire," cried a youth as they passed.

  And from another: "Your engine's knocking, Skinny. Reduce your spark."

  So the good-natured raillery continued while the two fat boys drovedoggedly on, now at considerably reduced speed, but still side by side,each determined to capture that plum pudding.

  They had passed the tape a second time, snorting louder and in shortergasps than before, and with the biting repartee still assailing theirears, when the man who had disappeared into the hold of the ship cameinto sight again, carrying a large can.

  "Quick!" he warned those about him. "Right here--b
efore they see."

  And he proceeded to divulge the contents of the can as a heavy grease,almost the color of the deck, which he began to smear heavily thereonover the entire surface that the runners would have to cover, from adistance fifteen feet away from the tape.

  "They're on their way," whispered a voice, and the crowd parted to givethe two the proper space in which to finish the race. There was an airof great expectancy among the onlookers.

  The lads were still struggling along neck and neck, but Slim's leg workwas so timed as to make him the first to strike the grease. He slid,tried to regain his balance, skidded into his competitor, who also wasfloundering for a foothold, and then, progressing to a spot where thegrease was thicker, both feet went out from under him and he went down,kicking Delicate's foundations from under him, also.

  The crowd yelled with laughter, and the breath went out of poor Slimwith a terrible snort, as Delicate came down squarely upon Slim'sstomach. And thus, the most ludicrous sight imaginable, they wentsliding under the tape.

  "All bets are off," shouted the other man who had been boxing; "theybroke before the finish."

  Side by side, too breathless to articulate, the two fat youths lay theregasping for breath, while those gathered about them made mock gesturesof "first aid to the injured." Nobody had been hurt, however, and thevictims of the prank took it in the way it had been intended.

  Delicate, whose real name was Remington Bowman, proved to be as good asportsman as Slim, and they went down the deck arm in arm when the messcall was sounded. And it was evidence of the good fellowship of theowner of the plum pudding that he did share it with both of themdirectly after the meal was over.

  "You fellows earned it," he said. And they agreed that they had.

  * * * * *

  That evening it was Joe's turn to do watch in the wireless room withLieutenant Mackinson until eleven o'clock, at about which time the youngofficer retired to his bunk just off the operating room, and Slim cameon, to work until three a. m., when he was relieved by Jerry, who stayeduntil seven o'clock, at which time the lieutenant again assumed chargeuntil relieved by Joe.

  It was a standing order, however--at least until the younger men becamemore experienced with the wireless--that Lieutenant Mackinsonimmediately should be apprised of the sending or receiving of anymessages.

  This first evening out the lieutenant complained of a headache, and,acquiescing in Joe's urging, had gone upon deck to get the air. Perhapsfifteen minutes had elapsed when Joe thought he heard someone prowlingabout stealthily in the battery room.

  His first thought was that the lieutenant had returned to make certainthat everything was all right, but a moment's consideration convincedhim otherwise.

  Whoever was in the adjoining room was making every effort to keep hispresence there from becoming known!

  It gave Joe a queer sort of feeling. What should he do? To seek thelieutenant and bring him back might require several minutes. Meanwhilethe intruder might accomplish his object--whatever it was--anddisappear.

  He decided to act upon his own initiative. Tiptoeing across the room, heturned off the electric switch, which threw the wireless room into utterdarkness except for the meagre moonlight filtering through an openporthole.

  Then, just as silently, he re-crossed the room to the door leading tothe battery room; slowly and without a sound he turned the knob andopened the door to a sufficient width to permit him to peer in. Thatroom also was in darkness, with only one porthole open.

  Cautiously the intruder seemed to be feeling about for somethingconnected with the batteries.

  Listening intently for a moment, to get the exact location of the otherman, Joe flung open the door and made a flying leap in the other'sdirection. The man was leaning over, and Joe landed squarely upon hisback.

  With a muffled exclamation of surprise the man jerked himself forwardand Joe went hurtling over his head, his arms, however, still claspedtightly about the other man's neck.

  Joe knew in an instant that he was in combat with a man larger and morepowerful than himself, but his own youth and suppleness were in hisfavor.

  Throwing all his strength into the movement, he twisted about and at thesame time jumped, so that he managed to wrap his legs about the otherman's waist. With another lithe movement he was again upon his back andreaching for his antagonist's throat, at the same time squeezing withall the strength of his powerful young limbs upon the other's ribs.

  Back and forth across the narrow confines of the little room theystaggered, now one having a temporary advantage, and again the other.Just as Joe was managing to fasten his fingers in at the throat, and theother was hammering terrible elbow blows into his stomach, the biggerman stumbled. As he fell he turned, and his full weight came down uponthe lad, almost crushing him.

  Joe was not done for yet, however. With the strength of desperation heheld on to the other fellow's shirt. He felt something hard and metallicunder it, and in a new grasp included that in his fist.

  Again the struggle began. Unable to break Joe's grip, the intruder triedto sink his teeth into the lad's wrist. Failing in this, he gave anevidence of his strength by rising, dragging Joe upward with him.

  There was an instant of terrible whirling about the room, and then theman landed a smashing blow on Joe's jaw. Still gripping the man's shirt,and the unknown metallic thing beneath it, the lad reeled. The shirtripped, there was another sharp snap, and the boy fell backward, dazed.

  He heard the man run swiftly, almost noiselessly toward the stern of theship; brilliant and many-colored lights flashed before his eyes--and heknew no more.

  There was an Instant of Terrible Whirling about the Room.]