The Ocean Wireless Boys and the Naval Code

While Billy stood there hesitating, the creature gave another of its alarming growls.

There was a swift patter of feet and the eyes vanished.

"Great Christmas, I've scared the creature off," said Billy to himself, with a sigh of relief; "a lucky thing I had that torch."

He walked forward more boldly. The evident alarm of the animal that had scared him, when the torch struck, convinced the boy that there was no more danger to be feared from it. In a few seconds more he was out in the open air and on a hillside.

It was still pitch dark, but the stars seemed to be growing fainter. Billy drew out his watch and, striking a match, looked at it. The hands pointed to three-thirty.

"It will be daylight before long," thought Billy. "If I start walking now I will only lose myself. I'll wait till it gets light and then try to get my bearings."

Never had dawn come so slowly as did that one, in the opinion of the tired and impatient lad. But at last the eastern sky grew faintly gray and then flushed red, and another day was born. In the growing light, Billy stood up and looked about him. The bay or any familiar landmarks were not in sight. Billy was in a quandary. But before long he came to a decision.

"I'll strike out for a main road," he decided; "if I can find one, that will bring me to where I can get some information, at any rate."

With this end in view, he scrambled down the hillside and found himself in some fields. After a half-hour's walk across these, he saw, with delight, that he had not miscalculated his direction. A road lay just beyond a brush hedge.

Billy made his way through a gap and struck off, in what he was tolerably sure was the way to Musky Bay. If he had but known it, however, he was proceeding in an exactly opposite direction. He had walked about a mile when another foot passenger hove in sight.

The lad was glad of this at first, for, although he had walked some distance, he had not passed a house, nor had any vehicles come by. But a second glance at the man who was coming toward him made him by no means so pleased at his appearance. The other foot passenger was a heavily built man with a lowering brow. He wore clothes that savored of a nautical character.

"Hullo, there, young feller," he said, as he halted to allow Billy to come up to him.

"Good morning," said Billy. "I am trying to find my way to Musky Bay. Can you direct me?"

The other looked at the boy with a glance of quick suspicion. "Livin' there?" he asked.

"Yes, that is to say, I'm staying there with friends."

"Umph! I know a crowd of folks there. Who you stopping with?"

Before Billy realized what he was saying he had made a fatal slip.

"With Captain Simms—that is," he hurried on, in an effort to correct his blunder, "I——"

"Know a kid named Ready—Jack Ready?"

"Why, yes, he's my best friend. He—here, what's the matter?"

The other had suddenly drawn a pistol and held it pointed unwaveringly at Billy.

"Jerk up yer hands, boy, and get 'em up quick!" he snarled.

Billy had no recourse but to obey. The man facing him was a hard-looking enough character to commit any crime. With a sudden pang Billy recalled that he was wearing the handsome watch—one of which had been given both to Jack and himself for services they had performed for a high official in Holland, when they rescued the latter's wife and daughter from robbers who had held up the ladies' automobile.

He saw the man's eyes fixed on the chain with a greedy glare. "Hand over that watch," he ordered.

Billy did as he was told. Then came another order while the pistol was pointed unwaveringly at him.

"Now come across with your cash."

Billy handed over what money he possessed—about fifteen dollars. The rest was in a New York bank, and some in a safe at the hotel.

The man looked at the inscription on the watch.

"William Raynor, eh? Your friend was talking about you just before we had to——"

All his fear was forgotten as the man spoke. His tones were sinister. Billy realized, like a flash, that this man was an ally of the Judsons, and must have had a hand in Jack's disappearance.

"Had to what?" Billy demanded. "You don't mean that you committed any act of violence?"

"Well, I'm not sayin' as to that," rejoined the other, who, as our readers will have guessed, was Bill Sniggers, "you'll find out soon enough."

The man was deliberately torturing Billy.

Soon after Jack's escape, Judson had awakened, and had been the first to discover that the boy had got away. A hasty and angry consultation followed, and it had been decided to send Bill, who was not known by sight in the vicinity, out to scout and see if the hunt for the missing boy was up. His astonishment at running into Billy was great. At first, till the boy spoke of Musky Bay, Bill, who was an all-around scoundrel, merely regarded him as a favorable object of robbery when he spied his gold watch chain. Now, however, the boy was a source of danger.

"Come over here, and I'll tell you all about it," said Bill. "Oh, you needn't be scared. I won't hurt you. I got all I wanted off of you. You see your friend got a little uppish after we carried him off, and so we had—to hit him this way!"

The last words were spoken quickly and were accompanied by a terrific blow aimed at Billy's chin. The boy sank in the roadway without a moan. He lay white and apparently lifeless, while Bill, with a satirical grin on his face, regarded him.

"Well, you won't come to life this little while, young feller," he muttered. "I'll just put you over this hedge for safekeeping, so as you won't attract undue attention, and then be on my way."

He picked the unconscious boy up as if he had been a feather and placed him behind the hedge. Then, with unconcern written on his brutal face, the rascal walked on. He was bound for a neighboring village to get provisions; for, till they knew how the land lay, none of the Judson gang dared to leave the deserted house. Bill, in his rough clothes, would attract little or no attention. But the others were smartly dressed and wore jewelry, and Donald had on yachting clothes. Had they been seen they could not have failed to be noticed in that simple community.

"This must be my lucky day," muttered Bill, as he walked along. "I got my pay for that job last night, and now I've got a gold watch and chain and fifteen dollars beside. Tell you what, Bill, old-timer, I won't go back to that old house again. I'll just leave that bunch up there, and beat it out of these parts in my motor-boat. That's what I'll do—go, while the goin's good, because I kin smell trouble coming sure as next election."

WHAT A "HAYSEED" DID.

Billy opened his eyes. His head swam dizzily, and he felt sick and faint. The hot sun was beating down on him, but at first he thought he was at home and in bed. Then he began to remember. He sat up, and then, not without an effort, rose to his feet dizzily.

"Where on earth am I?" he thought. "And what happened? Let's see what time it is."

But his watch pocket was empty, and then full recollection of what had occurred came back to him. He was still rather painfully trying to regain the road when he heard the sound of a voice. It was a very loud voice, even though the owner of it was not yet in sight.

"Looks like we might have rain. I said it looks like we might have a shower."

Then another voice—a boyish one—shouted back:

"YES—IT—DOES."

"Gid-ap," came in the first voice, and then came hoof-beats and the rumble of wheels. The next minute a ramshackle, two-seated rig, with a man and a boy on the front seat, came into sight. Billy gave one long stare, as one who doubted the evidence of his own eyes. Then he broke into a glad shout:

"Jack!"

"Billy, old fellow, what in the world? Why, you're white as a sheet."

With alarm on his face, Jack sprang out, as Abner stopped the rig, and rushed toward Billy.

"How did you get here? What has happened?" demanded Jack.

Billy told his story in as few words as possible.

"Oh, the rascal," broke out Jack, when Billy described the hold-up. "That was Bill Sniggers. He's the man who led the way to the stone house—but get in and I'll tell you my story as we go along."

"Where are you going?"

"Back to Musky Bay; but a few hours ago I didn't think I'd ever see it again."

Jack had to shout both his story and Billy's for Abner's benefit. But he gave them in highly condensed versions, as his sorely taxed vocal organs had almost reached the limit of their strength. He had just reached the conclusion, having been interrupted several times by Abner's exclamations, when, ahead of them, on the road, they spied a figure shuffling along in the dust. The two boys were on the rear seat of the rig, so that the man, when he saw the rig approaching, having turned his head at the sound of hoofs, did not see the boys.

"Reckon that feller means ter ask fer a ride," remarked Abner, as a bend in the road ahead screened the man from view for a few minutes.

A sudden idea had come into Jack's head.

"Let him have it," he said; "and then drive to the nearest village and up to the police station. I'll pay you well for it."

"But—but—who is he?" demanded Abner, stopping his horse.

"Bill Sniggers, the rascal who is in league with Judson."

"Great hemlock! You bet I'll pick him up right smart. But he'll see you boys and scare."

"No, we'll hide in here," and Jack raised a leather flap that hung from the back seat. "It will be a tight fit, but there'll be room."

"Wa'al, if that don't beat all," said Abner. "Git in thar, then, and then the show kin go on."

As Jack had said, it was a "tight fit" in the recess under the seat, but, as Abner's rig had been made to take produce to market, there was a sort of extension at the back, which gave far more room than would ordinarily have been the case. Pretty soon the boys, in their hiding-place, felt the rig come to a stop. Then came a voice both recognized as Bill's.

"Say, gimme a ride, will yer?"

"Did ye say my harness was untied?"

"No, I said gimme a ride," roared Bill, at the top of his powerful lungs.

"Oh, all right. Git in. Whoa thar', consarn yer (this to the horse). Whar yer goin'?"

"Nearest village. I'm campin' up the bay. I want to get some grub," shouted Bill.

"Yer a long ways frum ther river," remarked Abner.

"Maybe; but I reckon that ain't your business," growled Bill.

"Not ef you don't want ter tell it, 'tain't," said Abner apologetically. He had heard enough of Bill's character not to argue with him.

"That's a nice-looking watch you've got there," the boys heard Abner say pleasantly.

There was a pause and then Bill roared out:

"What's that to you if it is?"

"Oh, nothing, only I jest saw that printing on it, and calkilated it might have bin a present to yer."

Jack could almost see Bill hurriedly thrusting the watch back into his pocket. Then, after a little while, he spoke again.

"Didn't see nothing of a kid back there in the road, did yer?"

"He means you, Billy," whispered Jack.

"No, I didn't see nothing of nobody," was Abner's comprehensive rejoinder.

There was a long silence, during which the boys sweltered in their close confinement. But they would have gone through more than that for the sake of what they hoped to bring about—the apprehension of at least one of Judson's aides.

"Getting near a village?" asked Bill presently.

"Yep; 'bout half a mile more," rejoined Abner.

In a short time the rig began to slacken its pace. Then it stopped.

"Here, what's this?" the boys heard Bill exclaim. "You're stopping in front of a police station."

"Sure. The chief is Araminta's—that's my wife—cousin. I'm goin' in ter see him a minit. Hold the horse, will yer, he's a bit skittish."

The boys heard Abner get out, and then an eternity seemed to elapse. Then a door banged and a sharp voice snapped out:

"Throw up your hands, gol ding yer. I'm the chief uv perlice, an' I arrest ye fer ther robbery of one gold watch and assault and batt'ry."

"Confound it, the old hayseed led me into a trap!" exclaimed Bill.

He threw himself out of the rig and started to run. But, as he did so, Jack and Billy, who had crawled out from the back, suddenly appeared. Bill gave a wild shout, and the next instant he was sprawling headlong in the dusty street, while a crowd came rushing from all directions.

Jack had tripped him by an old football trick. With an oath the desperado reached for his revolver. But, before he could reach it, he was pinioned by a dozen pairs of hands, and marched, struggling and swearing, into the police station.

He was searched, and Billy's watch found on him, as well as the money. Then he was locked up. He refused to give any information about the Judsons, in which he showed his astuteness, for, if they had been caught, his plight would have been worse than it was, for they would have been certain to implicate him deeply. So he contented himself by saying that he knew nothing about them. They had hired him to help the elder Judson recover his nephew from another uncle, who had treated him badly. He knew nothing more about the case, he declared, except that, after Jack's escape, the Judsons had left for New York. (It may be said here that he was eventually found guilty of the theft and the assault and received a jail sentence.)

Abner was well rewarded for the clever way he had brought about Bill's capture; and, well pleased with the way everything had come out, the boys resumed their journey.

"I hope Abner will invest part of what I gave him in an ear-trumpet," said Jack, as they entered Musky Bay.

"I hope so," laughed Billy. He was going to add something, but a shout stopped him.

"There's Captain Simms and Noddy," shouted Jack, as the two came running toward the vehicle. There is no need to go into the details of the reunion, or to relate what anxious hours the captain and Noddy had gone through after their discovery that the boys had vanished. If they had not reappeared when they did, Captain Simms was preparing to organize posses and make a wide search for them, as well as enlisting the aid of the authorities. In the vague hope that the Judsons and Jarrow might have remained in the stone house, waiting Bill's return, a party searched it next day, under the guidance of a native who knew the trail to it. But it was empty. A search for the black motor boat, too, resulted in nothing being found of her.

As a matter of fact, not many minutes after Bill, from whom they wished to be separated, had left the house, the Judsons—father and son—and Jarrow, had made all speed to the point where the motor craft had been left and had hastily made off in her. They knew that the search for Jack would be hot and wished to get as far away from Bill as he treacherously wished to get from them. In their case there was certainly none of the proverbial honor among thieves.

The black motor boat was left at Clayton and afterward claimed by a relative of Bill, who, by reason of "circumstances over which he had no control," was unable to claim her himself. As for the Judsons, they vanished, leaving no trace behind them. The same was the case with Jarrow.

A message had been sent to Uncle Toby, telling him of the reason for the boys' delay at Musky Bay, via a small mail steamer that plied those waters. His reply was characteristic:

THE "CURLEW" IN TROUBLE.

"Looks as if we might have a blow, Jack."

The Curlew was lazily moving along, with all sail set, carrying the boys back to Pine Island from their adventurous visit to Musky Bay. But, although every bit of canvas was stretched on her spars, she hardly moved. Her form was reflected in the smooth water with almost mirror-like accuracy.

"A blow? Pshaw," scoffed Noddy, "there isn't a breath of wind. I wish we could get a blow and cool off."

"Well, your wish is likely to come true before very long," said Jack, who was at the tiller.

"How's that?"

"See that cloud bank over yonder, that ragged one?"

"Yes, what's that got to do with it?"

"Well, that's as full of wind as an auto tire," said Jack. "I've been watching it for some time. It'll be a nasty storm when it hits us."

"Hadn't we better run in for shelter somewhere?" asked Billy.

"There's so little wind now that I doubt if we could get inshore before the squall hits us," replied Jack. "I'll try to, though."

He headed for the distant shore, where the outlines of some sort of a wooden structure could be seen.

"If it gets very bad we can take refuge there," he said.

"That's so. I've no great fancy for getting wet," said Billy.

"Nor have I. We've had enough experiences of late to last us a long time," laughed Jack.

"And I was left out of every one of them," grumbled Noddy.

"For which you ought to be duly thankful," said Billy.

"Yes, I didn't enjoy that stone house much, or the soot," declared Jack.

"That cave didn't make much of a hit with me, either," said Billy. "My, those green eyes gave me a scare. I thought it was a bear or a mountain lion, sure; but they say there aren't any such animals in this part of the country."

"Abner said it must have been a lynx," said Jack.

"That being the case, you should have cuffed it," chuckled Noddy.

For the time being he escaped punishment for perpetrating this alleged pun, for the wind began to freshen and the Curlew slid through the water like a thing of life. The shore drew rapidly nearer.

But the cloud curtain spread with astonishing rapidity, till the whole sky was covered. The water turned from green to a dull leaden hue. Puffs of wind came with great velocity, heeling over the Curlew till the foam creamed in her lee scuppers.

The wind moaned in a queer, eerie sort of way, that bespoke the coming of a storm of more than ordinary severity. Jack was a prey to some anxiety as he held the Curlew on her course. If they could not make the dock he was aiming for before the storm struck, there might be serious consequences.

But, to his great relief, they reached the wharf, a tumble-down affair, before the tempest broke. The Curlew was made "snug," and this had hardly been done before a mighty gust of wind, followed by a blanket of rain, tore through the air.

"Just in time, boys," said Jack, as they set out on the run for the structure which they had observed from the water. On closer view it turned out to be nothing more than a barn, not in any too good repair, but still it offered a shelter.

The boys reached it just as a terrific blast of wind swept across the bay, roughening it with multitudinous whitecaps. A torrent of rain blotted out distances at the same time and turned all the world in their vicinity into a driving white cloud.

The barn proved to be even more rickety than its outside had indicated. The door was gone and its windows were broken out. But at least it was pleasanter under a roof than it would have been out in the open. The rain, driven by the furious wind, penetrated the rotten, sun-dried shingles and pattered on the earthen floor, but the boys found a dry place in one corner, where there was a pile of hay.

As the storm increased in fury the clouds began to blot out the daylight. It grew as dark as night almost. The roar of the rain was like the voice of a giant cataract.

"We may have to stay here all night," said Billy, after a long silence.

"That's true," rejoined Jack. "It would be foolhardy to take a boat like the Curlew out in such a storm."

Suddenly there came a terrific flash of lightning, followed by a sharp clap of thunder. It was succeeded by flash after flash, in blinding succession.

"My, this is certainly a snorter," exclaimed Billy, and the others agreed with him.

"We won't forget it in a hurry," said Jack. "I can't recall when I've heard the wind make such a noise."

To add to their alarm, as the fury of the wind increased, the old barn visibly quavered. It seemed to rock back and forth on its foundations. The noise of the wind grew so loud that conversation was presently impossible.

Suddenly there came a fiercer blast than any that had gone before. There was a ripping and rending sound.

"Great Scott! Boys, run for your lives, the old shack is tumbling down," cried Jack.

He had scarcely spoken when what he had anticipated happened. Beams, boards and shingles flew in every direction. There was no time even to think. Acting instinctively, each boy threw himself flat upon the pile of moldy hay.

Noddy, in his terror, burrowed deep into it. The noise that accompanied the dissolution of the old barn was terrific. Each boy felt as if at any moment a huge beam might fall on him and crush his life out. Above it all the wind howled with a note of triumph at its work of destruction.

The boys felt as if the end of the world had come.

THE END OF JACK'S HOLIDAY.

Fortunately, otherwise this story might have had a different ending, the barn was lifted almost entirely from its foundations and hurled over on its side. The roof was ripped off like an old hat and hurtled through the tempest to the water's edge.

None of the wreckage and débris struck the crouching boys. But the mere sound was terrifying enough. Even Jack was cowed by the tremendous force of the elements. Each lad felt as if the next moment would be his last.

But at last Jack mustered up courage and looked up. The beating rain, which had already soaked them all through, stung his face like hailstones.

"Hullo, fellows," he exclaimed, "is—is anybody hurt?"

"All right here," rejoined Billy. "But say, wasn't that the limit?"

"It sure was," agreed Jack. "At one time I thought we were goners, and——"

"Goo-oof-g-r-r-r-r-r!" An extraordinary sound, which can only be typographically rendered in this manner, suddenly interrupted him.

"Heavens, what's that?" gasped Billy, looking about him in a rather alarmed manner.

"Ugh-ugh-groof-f-f-f-f-f-f!"

"It's Noddy!" cried Jack.

"Gracious, he must be dying," gasped Billy.

In his eagerness to escape the full fury of the storm and the flying wreckage of the barn, Noddy had plunged into the hay with his mouth open, and now his throat was full of the dry stuff. He was almost choked.

"Pull him out," directed Jack, and he and Billy laid hold of Noddy's heels and dragged him out of the hay-pile. The lad was almost black in the face.

"Ug-gug-groo-o-o-o-o-o!" he mumbled, making frantic gestures with his arms.

"Goodness, this is as bad as the time he was almost drowned," cried Jack. "Clap him on the back good and hard. That's it."

There were several gulps and struggles, and then Noddy began to cough. But all danger from strangulation had passed, thanks to the heroic efforts of Jack and Billy.

"Phew! I thought I was choked," sputtered Noddy, as soon as he found his voice. "I'd hate to be a horse and have to eat that stuff."

"You are a kind of a horse," said Billy slyly.

"How do you make that out?" demanded Noddy, falling into the trap.

"A donkey," laughed Billy teasingly, but poor Noddy felt too badly after his experience in the hay to retaliate in kind.

After the restoration of Noddy, they began to survey the situation. All were soaked through, and the rain beat about them unmercifully. But they were thankful to have escaped with their lives. Through the white curtain of rain they could make out the outlines of the Curlew, riding at the dock.

"I'm glad to see that," observed Jack. "I was half afraid that she might have broken away."

"Then we would have been in a fine fix," said Billy.

"What will we do next?" asked Noddy, removing some fragments of hay from his ears.

"Wait till the clouds roll by," laughed Billy. "I guess that's about the program, isn't it, Jack?"

"Seems to be about all that there is to do," replied Jack; "but it seems to me that the storm is beginning to let up even now. Look in the northwest—it's beginning to get lighter."

"So it is," agreed Billy. "Let's get under that clump of trees yonder till it blows over altogether."

"Say, fellows, if we had a fire now, it would feel pretty good," observed Noddy.

"Well, what's the matter with having one?" asked Jack. "We can get some of those old shingles and tarred posts. They're pretty wet, but we can start the blaze going with dried hay from the bottom of the pile."

"Good for you. Volunteer firemen, get to work," cried Billy.

Soon the boys were carrying the dry hay and such wood as seemed suitable for their purpose to the clump of trees. Jack took some matches from his safe and struck a lucifer after the wood had been properly piled.

It blazed up cheerily. Each lad stripped to his underclothes and their drenched garments were hung in front of the hot fire. The dripping clothes sent up clouds of steam, but it was not long before they were dry enough to put on. By the time this was done the storm had abated. Presently the rain, which did not bother the boys under the thick clump of trees, ceased altogether. Only in the distance a dull muttering of thunder still went on. A rainbow appeared, delighting them with its brilliant colors.

"Well, that's over," observed Jack, as he dressed. "Now we'll go down and pump out the Curlew. I'll bet she's half full of water."

His conjecture proved correct. On their return to their trim little craft they found a foot or more of water in her hull. But this was soon disposed of and, with a brisk breeze favoring them, they set out once more for Pine Island. On their return they found Captain Toby, who had spied them from a distance, awaiting them on the dock.

In his hand he held a yellow envelope. It was a telegram for Jack. The boy eagerly tore it open, and for a moment, as he scanned its contents, his face fell. But almost instantly he brightened.

"Well, what's the news?" demanded his uncle.

"Good and bad," rejoined Jack. "I guess our holiday is over. Billy and I are ordered to join the Columbia as soon as we can."

"Hurrah! I was beginning to long for the sea again," declared Billy Raynor.

"I must confess I was, too," said Jack.

"It's a great life for lads—makes men out of them," said Captain Toby. "I must see if I've got two bottles of the Universal Remedy for you boys to take to sea with you," and he hurried off.

Noddy looked rather blue.

"You are lucky fellows—off for more adventures and fun," he said, "while I just stick around."

"Nonsense, you've got your business in New York to attend to, and, as for adventures, I've had plenty of them for a time, haven't you, Billy?"

"A jugful," declared Raynor. "Enough to last me for the rest of my life-time, and, anyhow, life at sea is mostly hard work."

"That's what makes it worth living," said Jack. "I'll be glad to get down to work again after our long holiday."

"And I really believe I will, too," said Billy; "and on a crack liner like the Columbia we may be able to make our marks."

"I hope we will. I mean to work mighty hard, anyhow," said the young wireless man, "but hark, there goes the bell for supper. Hurry up, fellows, I'll race you to the house."

The next day was devoted to saying good-by to the scenes and the people who had helped make up a happy vacation for the lads. Noddy, it was decided, would stay on with Captain Toby for the present, as his presence was not required in New York.

Of course the lads visited Captain Simms. He told them that his holiday also was almost over. The naval code was nearly completed, and he must get back to Washington within a week or so.

"Well, here's to our next meeting," he said, as he heartily clasped the hands of both lads in farewell.

Under what circumstances that meeting was to occur none of them just then guessed.

"THE GEM OF THE OCEAN."

The Columbia, a magnificent and imposing vessel of more than 20,000 tons burden, lay at her New York dock two weeks later. Within her steel sides, besides the usual cabin accommodations, she had swimming pools, Roman courts, palm gardens and even a theater. Elevators conveyed her passengers from deck to deck. The new vessel of the Jukes shipping interests was the last word in shipbuilding, and from her stern flew the Stars and Stripes.

It was sailing day. From the three immense black funnels smoke was rolling. Steam issued, roaring from the escape pipes. The dock buzzed and fermented with a great crowd assembled to see their friends off on the first voyage of the great ship. Wagons, taxicabs and autos blocked the street in front of the docks. Photographers and reporters swarmed everywhere. The confusion was tremendous, yet, promptly at the hour set for sailing, the booming siren began to sound, last farewells were shouted, and the invariable late stayer on board made his wild leap for the gang-plank before it was drawn in.

A perceptible vibration ran through the monster ship. Her propellers began to churn the water white. A small fleet of tugs helped to swing her against the tide as she slowly backed into the stream. Majestically her monster bulk swung round, her bow pointing seaward. Her maiden voyage had begun.

It is doubtful if among her delighted passengers and proud officers, however, there were any more enthusiastic about the great vessel than two lads who were seated in the wireless operators' cabin on the topmost deck.

"Well, Billy, this is different from the old Ajax, eh?"

"Is it? Well, I should say so," responded Billy. "You ought to see the engine-room. You could have put the Ajax in it, almost."

"We ought to be proud of our jobs," continued Jack.

"I know I am. It's a great thing to be part of the human machinery of a huge vessel like this, and the best part of it is that she flies the American flag," added Billy enthusiastically.

"I heard that the Gigantia, of the London Line, sails to-day, too. By Jove, there she comes now."

He pointed out of the open door back up the river. The great British steamer, till then the biggest thing on the ocean, was backing out. Her four red-and-black funnels loomed up imposingly above her black hull.

"Then we'll have a race for certain," said Billy, his eyes dilating with excitement; "good for us, but my money goes on the Columbia."

"That Britisher can travel, though," said Jack.

"Oh, we won't have an easy time of it, but I'll bet my shirt we'll win the blue ribbon of the ocean."

"I hope so," rejoined Jack with a smile at the other's enthusiasm. "But what do you think of my quarters, Billy?"

"Why, they're fit for a king or a millionaire," laughed Raynor. "I'll bet you never thought, when you were in that little rabbit hutch of a wireless room on the old Ajax, that some day you'd be traveling in such style?"

Raynor's eyes wandered to the instrument table, with its array of the most up-to-date wireless apparatus.

"Hullo! What's that thing?" he asked suddenly, pointing to a device that looked unfamiliar. It was a box-shaped arrangement, metal, with complicated wires strung to it and had a "telephone" receiver attached to it with a band to hold it securely to the operator's head.

"Oh, that's an invention of my own that I'm trying out," said Jack. "I don't just know what success I'll have with it. I haven't really put it to the test yet."

"What do you call it?"

"The Universal Detector," replied Jack.

"Just what is that?"

"Well, at present you know a ship can only receive wireless messages from a ship that is 'in tune' with her own radio apparatus. The Universal Detector should make it possible to catch every wireless sound. I am very anxious, if I perfect it, to get it adopted in the navy. It would be of great value in time of war, for by its use every message sent by an enemy, even if they were purposely put 'out of tune,' could be caught."

"By the way, speaking of the navy, did you hear from Captain Simms?"

"Yes; he is still up at Musky Bay. Some difficulties in the code have arisen, and he will not be through with his work for two weeks or more yet, he says."

"No more attempts to steal his work, or to spy on him?"

"He doesn't mention any. I guess we're through with the Judson crowd."

"Looks that way. What a gang of thorough-paced rascals they were."

"I guess Judson's business must be in a bad way to make him take such desperate chances to recoup by landing that contract."

"I suppose that's it."

Raynor lifted his eyes to the ship's clock above Jack's operating instruments.

"By Jove, almost eight bells! I've got to go on watch. This is my first job as second engineer, and I mean to keep things on the jump. Well, so long, old fellow."

"See you this evening," said Jack, as Raynor hurried off.

Jack soon became very busy. The air was full of all sorts of messages. Besides that, his cabin was crowded with men and women who wished to file last messages to those they left behind them. He worked steadily through the afternoon, catching meteorological radios as well as information from other steamers scattered along the Atlantic lane.

He knew that he might expect hard work and plenty of it all that day. There would be no chance for him to experiment with his Universal Detector. About dusk, Harvey Thurman, his assistant, came into the wireless room to relieve him while he went to dinner.

Thurman was a short, thick-set young man, with a flabby, pallid face and shifty eyes. He had got his job on the new liner through a "pull" that he possessed through a distant relationship with Mr. Jukes. Jack had not met him before, and, since they had been on board, they had exchanged only a few words, but he instinctively felt that he and Thurman were not going to make very good shipmates.

As Jack relinquished the head-receivers and the key to his "relief," Thurman's gaze rested on the Universal Detector.

"What's that?" he demanded.

"Oh, just a little idea I'm working on," said Jack, "a new invention. If I can perfect it, it may be valuable."

"Yes, but what is it? What's it for?" persisted Thurman.

Jack explained what he hoped to accomplish with the instrument, and an instant later was sorry he had done so, for he noticed an expression of cupidity creep into Thurman's eyes. The youth persisted in asking a host of questions, and Jack, having started to explain, could not very well refuse to answer. Besides, inventors are notoriously garrulous about their brain children, and Jack, even though he did not like Thurman, soon found himself talking away at a great rate.

"Huh, I don't think the idea's worth a cent," sniffed Thurman contemptuously, when Jack had finished.

"I guess that's where you and I differ," said Jack, controlling his temper with some difficulty, for the sneer in Thurman's voice had been marked. "I'm going to make it a success, and then we shall see."

He left the wireless room, and the instant he was gone Thurman, with a crafty look on his flabby face, eagerly began examining the detector. As he was doing so Jack, who had forgotten his cap, suddenly reëntered the wireless room. Thurman had been so intent on his scrutiny of the detector that he did not hear him.

"You appear to be taking great interest in that useless invention," said Jack in a quiet voice.

Thurman started and spun round. His face turned red and he had an almost guilty look.

"I didn't think you were coming creeping back like that," he exclaimed, "a fellow would almost think you were spying on him."

"Have you any reason to fear being spied upon?" asked Jack.

"Me? No, not the least. That's a funny question."

"I want to tell you, Thurman, that my invention is not yet completed and therefore, of course, is not patented. I was pretty free with you in describing it, and I shall trust to your honor not to talk about it to anyone."

"Certainly not," blustered Thurman. "I'm not that sort of a chap."

But, after Jack had gone out, he resumed his study of the detector a second time, desisting every time he heard a step outside.

"So it's not patented, eh?" he muttered to himself. "That will help. It's an idea there that ought to be worth a pot of money."

JACK'S BIG SECRET.

The next day Jack found an opportunity to sandwich in some work on his invention between his regular work. The thing fascinated him, and he tried and tested it in a hundred different combinations. Suddenly, just after he had altered two important units of the device, a new note came to his ears through the "watch-case" receivers that were clamped to his head.

"It's code—somebody sending code!" exclaimed Jack, and then the next instant, "it's some ship of the navy! Hurrah! The detector is working, for they use different wave lengths from the commercial workers, and, if it hadn't been for the Universal Detector, I'd never have been able to listen in at their little talk-fest."

He waited till the code message, a long one from Washington to the Idaho, of the North Atlantic fleet at Guantanamo, Cuba, was finished, and then he could not refrain from "butting in."

"Hello, navy," he chattered with the wireless key, "that was a nice little message you had. How's the weather up your way?"

"Who is this?" demanded the navy wireless in imperious tones.

"Oh, just a fellow who was listening," responded Jack.

"Butting in, you mean. But say, how did you ever get on to our sending? We were using eccentric wave-lengths to keep our talk a secret."

"I'll have to keep how I caught your talk a secret, too, for the present, old man."

"Great Scott! It isn't possible that you've solved the problem of a universal detector. Why, that's a thing the navy sharps have been working on for years."

"I can't say how I caught your message," shot back Jack's radio through space.

"You'll have to tell if the government gets after you," was the reply. "Uncle Sam isn't going to have a fellow running round loose with anything like that."

"What do you mean?"

"That you will be forbidden to use it."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, that's so. I'm going to make out a report for my superiors about it right now. You're pretty fresh."

"Put that in the report, too," chuckled the Columbia's wireless disdainfully.

"You'll find it's no joke to monkey with the government," snapped back the naval man.

Jack didn't answer. A message from the Taurus, of the Bull Line, was coming in. She had sighted an iceberg, something very unusual at that time of year. Jack hurried the message, which gave latitude and longitude of the menace, to Captain Turner.

"Well, that won't bother us," said that dignitary. "We're far to the south of that. Those Bull fellows run to Quebec. Send a radio to Captain Spencer, of the Taurus, thanking him for his information."

The great man, the captain of a liner, who has literally more power than a king, lit a cigar, and bent his head once more over the problem in navigation he was wrestling with. Jack saluted and hurried back to his quarters.

He was highly elated over the success of his Universal Detector. The threats of the government man did not alarm him, for he did not propose to place his invention on the general market, but to sell it outright to the government, whose secret it would then remain.

He resolved to test it again. A moment after he had put the receivers to his ears, a broad grin came over his face. The air was literally vibrant with the calls of the navy men, flinging their high-powered currents through space.

"... he's a cheeky beggar, whoever he is, but he's got the goods," was the first he heard.

"Hum, that's Mr. Washington," thought Jack. Then, from some other point came another message.

"Great Scott! Uncle Sam won't let him get away with anything like that."

"I should say not. The Secret Service department is already at work trying to find out who the dickens he is."

"That will be a sweet job," came the naval station at Point Judith.

"Talk about a needle in a haystack," sputtered the U. S. S. Alabama.

"Not a patch on it," agreed the great dreadnought Florida.

Then came Washington again.

"I'll tell you it's stirred up a fuss here," he said. "I wonder who it can be."

"Maybe that Italian fellow who invented the sliding sounder," suggested the Florida.

"Or Pederson, out in Chicago," came from a land station. All the navy men appeared to be joining in the confab.

"Gracious, what a fuss I've stirred up," thought Jack, with a quiet smile. "They'd never guess in a million years that it's a kid of an operator who's causing all the trouble."

"No; both the men you mentioned are in Europe," declared Washington. "The department's been trailing them since they got my news."

"Well, the wireless men are going to be a happy hunting ground for the Secret Service fellows for this one little while," chuckled the Florida.

"Wonder if he's listening now?" struck in the North Dakota, which had not yet talked.

"Shouldn't wonder," remarked the Idaho.

Jack pressed down his key and the spark began to flash and crackle.

"You fellows are having a grand old pow-wow," he said. "Sorry I can't give you any information. I know you're dying of curiosity."

"You've got your nerve, I must say," sputtered Washington indignantly. "Have you been listening right along?"

"Yes; that Secret Service hunt is going to be very interesting."

"It won't be very interesting for you, whoever you are, when they get you," thundered the mighty Florida. "It's bad business monkeying with Uncle Sam."

"Maybe they won't get me," suggested Jack's spark.

"Oh, yes, they will," came from Washington, "and you'll find it doesn't pay to be as sassy as you've been."

"M-M-M," sent out Jack mischievously.

The three letters mean, in telegraphers' and wireless men's language, "laughter."

Washington's dignity took fire at this gross insult. They must have sizzled as from the national capital an angry message shot out to the other ships to talk in code. Jack's fun was over, but he had thoroughly enjoyed all the excitement he had stirred up. As he laid down the receivers Raynor came in.

"You look tickled to death over something," he exclaimed. "What's up?"

Jack sprang to his feet. His eyes were shining. He clasped Raynor's hand and wrung it pump-handle fashion. Raynor looked at the usually quiet, rather self-contained lad, in blank astonishment.

"What's happened—somebody wirelessed you that you're heir to a million?" he demanded.

"No, better than that, Billy."

"Great Scott! Tell me."

"Billy, old boy, it works. It works like a charm. I've got half the navy all snarled up about it now. By to-morrow they'll be after me with Secret Service men."

"Gee whillakers. You've done the trick! Good for you, old boy."

A sudden shadow in the open door made them both look round. Thurman stood in the embrasure.

"May I add my congratulations?" he said, holding out his hand.

THE NAVY DEPARTMENT "SITS UP."

Jack could not refuse the proffered hand. But he took it with an uneasy air. There was something not quite "straight" about Thurman, it seemed to Jack, but as the former offered his congratulations he appeared sincere enough.

"After all, it may be just his misfortune that he can't look you in the eyes," Jack told himself.

But if he had been in the wireless room that night he would have deemed his suspicions only too well founded. Thurman busied himself with routine matters till he was sure Jack was asleep. Then he began calling Washington with monotonous regularity.

An irritable operator answered him. By the wave length the Washington man knew that it was not a naval station or vessel calling.

"Yes—yes—what—is—it?" he snapped.

"I know the fellow who has that Universal Detector."

"What!" The other man, hundreds of miles away, almost fell out of his chair. Recovering himself, he shot out another message:

"Who is this?"

"Never mind that, just for the present."

"Say, you're not that fresh fellow himself talking just to kid us, are you?"

"No, I'm far from joking. I expect to make some money out of this."

"A reward?"

"That's the idea."

"Well, there's no doubt but you would get it if you really have the information. The department's been all up in the air ever since that fellow butted in."

"Are you going to report this conversation?"

"Most assuredly."

"Don't forget that I demand a substantial reward for the information."

"I won't. When will you call me again?"

"About this time to-morrow night."

"All right, then. Good-by."

Thurman took the receiver from his head with a slow smile of satisfaction.

"I guess that will cook that fresh kid's goose," he said. "It's a mean thing to do, maybe, but I need the money, and I'm glad to get a chance to set him down a peg or two."

Thurman could hardly wait for the next night to come. During the day Jack had been having some more fun with the navy men, driving them almost wild. When Thurman finally got Washington, therefore, everything in the government's big wireless station was at fever heat. A high official of the navy sat by the operator, waiting for Thurman's promised call to come out of space.

Men of the Secret Service were scattered about the room as well as department officials. The air was tense with expectancy. At last Thurman's message came.

His first question was about the reward.

"Tell him he will be liberally rewarded," ordered the naval official. "Tell him to give us the information at once. That fellow has been playing with us all day, and we've been powerless to outwit the Universal Detector, or whatever device it is he uses. The man must be a wizard to have solved a problem that has baffled the keenest minds in the Navy Bureau."

"Reward is assured you," flashed back the naval operator. "Now give us your information. Time is precious."

But Thurman's answer proved disappointing to those in the room.

"Impossible to do so now. Inventor is on the high seas. Will wireless you later when he will return."

"Confound it," grumbled the naval official. "I thought we would have had our hands on the fellow before daylight. Now it seems we shall have to play a waiting game."

"If the man is on the high seas, it is not unlikely that he is the wireless man on one of the liners," put in Burns, a spare, grizzled man and Chief of the Secret Service.

"That's probable, Burns," rejoined the navy official.

"More than likely, I think," put in another member of the group, "but it's impossible to find out which one."

"Yes, we are at the mercy of our unknown informant," said Burns. "Why the deuce was he so mysterious about it?" He tugged at his gray mustache as a sudden thought struck him.

"Jove!" he exclaimed. "You don't think it's a put-up job to get money out of the government? Put up, I mean, by an agent of the inventor himself."

"I don't know, Burns," was the official's reply. "It's all mighty mysterious. I confess I can't hazard a guess as to the man's identity. We've looked up all the most prominent wireless sharps all over the country. I am satisfied this fellow is not one of their number."

"Some obscure fellow, I guess," said a Secret Service man.

"Well, he won't remain obscure long," remarked Burns, "if he has brains enough to turn the navy department topsy-turvy for forty-eight hours."

A MYSTERY ON BOARD.

Two days later the monotony of the voyage, which was broken only by the radiograms which were posted daily concerning the race between the American and British liners—the Columbia being in the lead—was rudely shattered by an incident in which Jack was destined to play an important part. Jack had been on a visit to Raynor during the young engineer's night watch in the engine-room. They had stayed chatting and talking over old times till Jack suddenly realized that it was long after midnight and time for him to be in his bunk.

Hastily saying good-night, he made his way through the deserted corridors of the great ship, which stretched empty and dimly lit before him. As he traversed them the young wireless man could not but think of the contrast to the busy life of the day when stewards swarmed and passengers hurried to and fro. Now everything was silent and deserted, except for the still figures up on the bridge and below in the engine and fire rooms, guiding and powering the great vessel onward through the night at a twenty-four-knot clip.

The lad had just reached the end of one corridor, and was about to turn into another which led to a companionway, which would bring him to his own domain, when he stopped short, startled by the sound of a single sharp outcry. It came from the corridor he was about to turn into. Jack darted round the corner and almost instantly stumbled over the huddled body of a man lying outside one of the cabin doors.

A dark stain was under his head, and Jack saw at once that the man had been the victim of an attack. At almost the same moment, by the dim light, he recognized the unconscious form as being that of Joseph Rosenstein, a diamond merchant, so wealthy and famous that he had been pointed out to Jack by the purser as a celebrity.

"Queer fellow," the purser had said. "Won't put his jewels in the safe, although I understand he is carrying three magnificent diamonds with him. Likely to get into trouble if anyone on board knows about it."

"He's taking big chances," agreed Jack, and now here was the proof of his words lying at the boy's feet. Suddenly he recalled having received a message a few days before from New York for the injured man.

"Be very careful. F. is on board," it had read, and Jack interpreted this to be meant as a warning to the diamond merchant. But he did not devote much attention to it just then, except to rouse the sleepy stewards. Within a few minutes the captain and the doctor were on the scene.

"A nasty cut, done with a blackjack or a club," opined Dr. Browning, as he raised the man.

"Is it a mortal wound?" asked the captain. "This is a terrible thing to have happen on my ship."

"I think he'll pull through if no complications set in," said the doctor, and ordered the man removed to his cabin. Suddenly Jack recollected what the purser had said about the diamonds.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said he to the captain, "but I heard that this man carried about valuable diamonds with him. He was probably attacked for purposes of robbery."

"That's right," answered the captain, with a quick look of approval at Jack. "Browning, we'd better examine the contents of his pockets." They did so, but no traces of precious stones could be found.

"Whoever did this, robbed him," declared the captain, with a somber brow, "and the deuce of it is that, unless we can detect him, he will walk ashore at Southampton or Cherbourg a free man."

The door of the stateroom opposite to which the injured man lay opened suddenly, and a little, wizen-faced man, wearing spectacles, looked out. He appeared startled and shocked as he saw the limp form.

"Good gracious! This is terrible, terrible, captain," he sputtered. "Is—is the man dead?"

"No, Professor Dusenberry, although that does not appear to be the fault of whoever attacked him," was the rejoinder.

"He was attacked, then, for purposes of robbery, do you think?"

"I suspect so."

"Oh, dear, this has so upset me that I shan't sleep the rest of the night," protested the little man, and withdrew into his stateroom.

The next day, naturally, the whole ship buzzed with the news of the night's happenings, and speculation ran rife as to who could have attacked the diamond merchant, who had recovered consciousness and was able to talk. He himself had not the slightest idea of his assailant. He had sat up till late in the smoking saloon, he said, and was coming along the corridor to his stateroom when he was struck down from behind. A black leather wallet, containing three diamonds, which were destined to be sold to the scion of a European royal house, was missing from his pocket, and the loss nearly drove the unfortunate diamond man frantic. He valued the stones at $150,000, so that perhaps his frenzy at losing them was not unnatural.

In the afternoon, Professor Dusenberry, dressed in a frock coat and top hat, although he was at sea and the weather was warm, came into the wireless room. He wanted to send a message, he said, a wireless to London. He was very cautious about inquiring the price and all the details before he sat down to write out his dispatch. When it was completed he handed it to Jack with his thin fingers, and asked that it be dispatched at once. Then he retreated, or rather faded, from the wireless room. Jack scanned the message with thoughtful eyes. It seemed an odd radiogram for a college professor, such as he had heard Prof. Dusenberry was, to be sending. It read as follows: