The Wireless Operator—With the U. S. Coast Guard/Chapter 19
CHAPTER XIX
The Culprit Discovered
Night had come before the captain left the bridge. As he paced back and forth he turned over in his mind the problem of the finishing nail. Black could not have driven the nail into the field coil if he was really asleep at the time he was believed to have been. Was Black asleep or not? How was he ever to discover? Again and again the commander of the Iroquois asked himself that question, as he moved about the bridge. He could see no way to solve the problem.
Gradually the wind fell, and with its fall the sea grew less violent. The cloud rack thinned. Vigilantly the captain watched the sky. Finally what he was looking for appeared. The clouds parted for a space, revealing the purple vault of heaven, studded with shining stars. Quickly he seized his instruments and ascertained his position. Now he knew exactly where the Iroquois was. The position of the cutter was but little different from that in which his dead reckoning put her, The captain rectified his position on the chart, and then, vastly relieved, he turned the cutter over to Lieutenant Hill and went to his cabin. The Rayolite was towing securely, wind and sea were growing calmer with every hour, and the cutter’s position was known exactly. He had done a hard job and done it well. No wonder the commander was gratified.
If only he could handle the other problem as satisfactorily. But how? That was the question he asked himself over and over. Rollin brought the commander food. When he had eaten, Captain Hardwick got out the three finishing nails. He sat looking at them for a while, his brow wrinkled in deep thought. “If Sparks is fit to be seen,” he said to himself, “I ought to show him these. He might be able to suggest some course of action that would help.”
Captain Hardwick arose and went forward to the sick bay. He met the surgeon at the door. “How’s Mr. Sharp?” asked the commander.
“He’s pretty sick, Captain, but I think he’ll pull through all right. He’s got a fine constitution and is tough as nails. But we’ll have to take care of him.”
The captain seemed to hesitate. “I—I suppose it wouldn’t do to talk to him?” he asked.
“Well, that would depend. It would hardly do any harm to talk to him a moment and wish him a quick recovery. It wouldn’t be wise to talk to him, though, if your conversation would excite him.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t do,” said the captain regretfully. “Yet I wanted very much to talk to him.”
“I don’t want to be inquisitive, Captain, but perhaps if you could give me an idea of what you want to say to him, I could judge if it would be best. Perhaps, though, it is a private matter.”
“No, it isn’t, Doctor. It’s a matter that concerns us all. You are one of my official family, and I may as well tell you. Only please do not talk about it.”
“Of course I wouldn’t repeat what you say, Captain, but don’t tell me unless you wish to do so.”
“You recall that we had a little difficulty with the wireless the evening we got back to New York from Boston, don’t you, Doctor?”
“Yes. That was the evening Sparks, here, got back aboard. I heard something had gone wrong. But the chief electrician soon fixed it up, I was told. I supposed that it didn’t amount to anything.”
“In a way, it didn’t. In another way, it was a very serious affair.”
“So?” queried the doctor.
“Yes. The difficulty was merely a grounded coil in the field. But the coil had been grounded purposely, and grounded by some one on this ship.” The surgeon was all attention. “We were just coming up the channel and about to drop anchor. It was early evening—seven o'clock, to be exact. Young Harper was on watch. He received a message for me, and, leaving the wireless shack, he ran up to the bridge to me. I read the message, wrote a reply, and Henry ran back to his key. A little later he came charging back, to say that his wireless wouldn’t work. I sent for the other wireless men. Belford was talking to the quartermaster beside the wheel-house. Black was fast asleep in his bunk. But Sharp came aboard in a few moments, found the trouble, and fixed the outfit up.”
“That is what I had understood,” remarked the doctor.
“Next day,” continued the captain, “Mr. Sharp found out what had grounded the defective coil. It was this.” And the commander held out the bent finishing nail. “Some one had driven that nail into the coil in those few minutes that Henry was up in the chart-room with me.”
“Can it be possible!” cried the doctor, amazed.
“I regret to say it is. What is more, Henry pulled on a coat of Black’s after his ducking yesterday, and this morning he found these in the pocket of that coat.”
“You don’t mean it!” exclaimed the surgeon.
“And what’s still more,” continued the captain, “my quartermaster found a hammer in Black’s bunk, that the carpenter says was stolen at supper time of the evening we anchored—just a few minutes before the coil was ruined. The hammer was lying, with nails like these, on the carpenter’s work at the foot of the stairs leading to the mess-table. Furthermore, Black and Harper had words, and Black threatened to fix Harper for reporting him to me. The thing leads to Black as straight as a string. But there’s one weak link in the chain of evidence: Black was asleep at the time this was done.”
“When did you say it happened?”
“At seven o’clock in the evening, just as we were coming to anchor.”’
The surgeon was silent a moment, lost in thought. Then suddenly he spoke. “I remember it all very well. We were, as you say, just coming to anchor. I recall it because I had been sent for to look after one of the sailors who had crushed a finger while working with the anchor-chain. I remember distinctly that the first thing I heard, when I put my head out of the companionway, was the ship’s bell. It was exactly seven o’clock.”
“That’s exactly the instant Henry was scampering up the ladder to me,” said the captain.
“I hurried forward,” continued the surgeon. “A few seconds later I reached the radio shack. A dark figure came tearing around the rear of that structure and almost bumped into me. The fellow saw me and drew back. I passed on. The fellow went into the radio room, for I distinctly heard the door slam after I passed. He was evidently in too much of a hurry to shut it quietly.”
The surgeon paused. “The fellow!” cried the captain. “Who was he? Have you any idea?”
“I certainly have. Although it was perfectly dark out on deck, I saw the man’s face clearly outlined against a light. It was Black.”