The Boys of the Wireless Part 21

CHAPTER XVI-KIDNAPPED

"Let me out," said Tom, rattling the closet door.

"Sure, how did you get in there?" asked Bill Barber.

"I was locked in."

"Who by?"

"I'll tell you later. The key is in the padlock."

"I see it."

There was nothing belligerent or threatening in Bill's behavior. On the contrary, he seemed anxious to please Tom and glad to do him a favor.

This was so foreign to the usual att.i.tude of the Barber boy, that Tom was both astonished and puzzled.

He noticed casually that Bill seemed more tidy than usual, and there was not so much of the hang dog look about him as in the past.

"Queer," spoke Bill, staring perplexedly at Tom as the latter stepped out into the room. "You didn't shut yourself up in there?"

"No, I'll tell you how it was soon. Thank you, Bill, you've done me a big favor in coming just when I needed help."

"I am glad," voiced Bill, sententiously but heartily.

"I've something to do, so just sit down till I get things to rights, will you?"

"I'll do that, Tom."

Bill sat staring wonderingly at the wireless outfit. He watched Tom flit about as might a wizard among his trick apparatus. Tom flew to the operating table. He knew that somehow irregular work had been done by his two recent visitors. He wondered if he could head off the design they had in view, and was intent on getting word to headquarters.

Just ready to flash the signal, however, Tom ran over to a corner of the room and picked up a crumpled wad of paper. As he opened it, revealing two sheets, and reviewed their contents, he knew that he had discovered something worth while.

"The cypher message and the key to it," exclaimed Tom eagerly. "Those fellows got what they came after and carelessly dropped these. Now to figure it out."

Tom ran his eyes first over one sheet and then the other. The cypher message dovetailed with words he had heard the surrept.i.tious operator use. With a pencil he wrote the words out with the help of the key. This was the result:

"Leave the steamer before arrival at Halifax, as New York police have telegraphed there to arrest you."

"I see it all as clear as daylight," murmured Tom. "The two men who imprisoned me are warning a friend, a criminal confederate. I'll block the game."

Tom was busy at the transmitter for the next half hour. He flashed a message to the _Councillor_, informing the captain that the pa.s.senger, Daniel Ritchie, had received a wireless message irregularly, and to prevent him from leaving the ship until he reported to the police at Halifax.

Then Tom sent a message to headquarters explaining the entire proceedings of the past hour, giving his construction of the episode, and advising an immediate report to the New York police authorities.

Pretty tired from his activities, he now sat down in a chair. He had to smile as he observed the face of Bill Barber. The latter sat like one entranced over the manipulation the wireless outfit had undergone.

"Say," he bolted out in mingled awe and admiration, "you know how to do things with that queer contrivance, don't you?"

Tom briefly explained some of the minutiae of the wireless and had an ardent listener. When he had concluded he intimated pleasantly:

"And how did you chance to come along just when I needed you, Bill?"

The Barber boy at once looked serious. A furtive embarra.s.sed expression came into his face.

"That's it," he mumbled, "I came to tell you, Tom, you see?"

"To tell me what, Bill?" asked Tom encouragingly.

"About that tar and feather business. I had nothing to do with it, Tom, honest Injun."

"Who said you did, Bill?" propounded Tom, smiling.

"I'll bet you thought it."

"Well, wasn't it quite natural I should?" inquired Tom.

"No, sir!" declared Bill, quite indignantly, "I wouldn't play a mean trick like that on you, Tom Barnes. I've got nothing against you. In fact, ever since you spoke up for me at the trial, I've-well, Tom,"

stammered Bill, a little sheepishly, "I've tried to remember what you said about giving me a chance to make a man of myself, and I-I hope I'm doing it."

"Good for you, Bill Barber!" cried Tom heartily. "I'm proud of you, to hear you talk like that."

"It was some of my old gang hired out to trim you. I've thrashed the whole kit of them for doing it, and they won't trouble you again, never fear."

"You're a good friend, Bill," declared Tom. "Did you say you were working?"

"Yes, but not steady," answered Bill. "I get odd jobs running small launches for the resorters down at Sea Grove. Had a trip or two for that young Boston cad, who is hanging around with Mart Walters. Huh! he brags about what lots of money he's got, and he hasn't paid me for my work yet. I'll get it, though, or take it out of his hide," declared Bill, ominously. "I say, Tom, he's a bad one, and Mart Walters is worse. Look out for them."

"I shall, Bill, and thank you for your good wishes and help. Any time I can return the favor call on me as a real friend."

Bill Barber departed with a pleased face, and Tom was not sorry for the chance to help a fellow whom he decided had lots of good in him, if rightly encouraged.

In about half an hour a message came from headquarters. It had the "sine" of the superintendent.

"Good work," it commended. "Parties interested notified. Man on steamer fugitive forger wanted by the Government. Probably a reward case."

Tom felt that he was progressing finely in his work. So far, application and straightforward devotion to duty had enabled him to perform his duties without a censure, and to avoid snares set for his downfall.

He was glad when Ben appeared, for Tom was full of the theme of the hour, and his chum and a.s.sistant was a good listener. Something in Ben's face checked the welcome rising to Tom's lips, however, and he eyed Ben keenly.

"Something wrong," reported Ben, looking pale and breathing hard as if he had been running fast.

"Where-how?" propounded Tom quickly.

"At the farm-Harry."