The Wireless Operator—With the U. S. Coast Guard/Chapter 20
CHAPTER XX
Henry’s Exoneration
WITH such a line of evidence against Black, the outcome of the court-martial that quickly followed was a certainty. Black was convicted, dishonorably discharged from the Coast Guard service, sentenced to serve a prison term, and thrust into the brig, after being stripped of his uniform.
Quite as naturally Henry was appointed to fill his place. The appointment, however, could not become really effective until Henry should receive his mother’s permission to enlist. He had no doubt her consent would be forthcoming. He had already written to obtain it, and was expecting a reply soon. Everybody on board seemed genuinely glad when Henry was completely exonerated, and nobody was more pleased than Captain Hardwick. He had come to like the lad immensely.
“Henry,” he said, “I never had more satisfaction in appointing any one to a position under my command than I have in appointing you. If you continue to be as faithful as you have been so far, there won’t be any question, when your probationary three months are up, about your confirmation as a permanent member of my wireless staff. With Mr. Sharp and Mr. Belford and you, I shall have one of the best wireless staffs in the service.”
Nor was Mr. Sharp or Belford one whit less pleased with the change in the wireless staff. Neither of them had ever liked the third-class radio man. When Mr. Sharp shook Henry’s hand in congratulation, Henry said, “Mr. Sharp, I want you to teach me everything there is to know about wireless.”
The chief electrician laughed. “I can’t do that, Henry,” he smiled. “I don’t know everything myself. But Ill be glad to teach you all I do know. With two such students as you and Jimmy, I’ll have to hustle to keep ahead of you.”
Even the weather seemed to rejoice with Henry, for the clouds disappeared, the sun came out clear, and the day following the rescue of the Rayolite was one of rare beauty. The Iroquois was able to quicken her speed and bring her tow into New York Harbor before darkness again fell.
As the cutter steamed up the channel, Henry got into touch with Roy and flashed him the joy- ful news that the mystery of the field coil had been solved, and that he himself had been exonerated and permanently appointed third member of the radio staff.
There were more good things in store for Henry. Next day the mail boy brought him two letters. One was from Willie, regretting his unforeseen absence from New York and announcing his speedy return; and the other was from Henry’s mother, giving her consent to his enlistment as a Coast Guard wireless man.
Henry took his mother’s letter to Captain Hardwick. ‘The captain smiled with satisfaction as he read it. “That settles the matter for sure,” he said. “This communication makes your appointment effective, and you are now a regularly appointed member of my staff. My congratulations, Sparks!”
Henry took the proffered hand. “It will be a great day for me, Captain,” he said, “when I am a real Sparks like Mr. Sharp. I intend to be. I’m going to study hard and climb up.”
“Your appointment is a probationary one, you understand,” said the commander. “But I haven’t the least doubt that at the end of three months I shall be able to confirm it.”
“I’ll do all I possibly can to deserve such confirmation,” said Henry stoutly. “We wireless men want to help you all we can, Captain.”
“I wish you could help me catch some dope smugglers that have been bothering the custom officials here for a long time,” sighed the captain. “But I don’t know how you could do it. These fellows have been bringing opium into this port for months from Central America, and we can’t touch them. Yet we are absolutely certain they are doing it. I just got another letter this morning from the commandant of this district, urging me to increase my vigilance.”
“Who are the fellows that bring in the opium, and how do they do it?” asked Henry.
“The most notorious outfit is the steamer Orient, that plies between New York and Panama.”
“How do you know she brings in opium?” asked Henry.
“Well, we don’t really know it. We know the stuff gets in, and we know it comes from Panama by ship. The captain of the Orient has a shady reputation and associates with men known to be dope handlers. He never loses any of his crew, and that is suspicious in itself.”
“I don’t understand,” said Henry.
“Oh, sailors go from boat to boat. They are a roving lot, and it is seldom that a ship’s master can keep the same crew any length of time. But there’s something so attractive about service on the Orient that men seldom leave her. It isn’t because of the high tone of life aboard, either, for they’re a rummy lot on that ship. We figure they are all in on the opium business, and that the captain lets them share in the profits. That’s the only explanation we can see for the situation.”
“Why don’t you stop the Orient before she gets into the harbor and search her?” asked Henry.
“We would do that, but her master is foxy. He has a habit of appearing in the harbor hours before he is expected. He’s here before we know he’s anywhere near New York. There's no use searching him after he’s in the harbor, for he probably passes his stuff out to fishermen or boatmen before he reaches the Narrows. Likely he drops it overboard, with buoys to mark it, so his confederates can go out in small boats and pick it up. We figure he must do it this way, for the custom guards have watched his ship at her pier as a cat watches a mouse-hole, and they can never get a thing that is suspicious.”
“Why don’t you get a compass bearing on the Orient while she is at sea?” asked Henry. “Then you could steam out and intercept her.”
“Sounds easy, but she won’t answer radio calls. That’s another suspicious thing about her. When she does give her position, as she sometimes does to her owners, we have found that she almost always gives a false one. She’s nearer port by a good deal than she says she is. We’ve tried lots of times to intercept her, and that’s the way she fools us. If we had nothing else to do but catch the Orient, of course we'd get her. But you’ve seen enough in your brief stay aboard the Iroquois to know that the Coast Guard is a pretty busy organization. We don’t have the time necessary to devote to a little matter like this. Yet this smuggling ought to be stopped.”
Henry was all afire with the problem of helping his captain catch the crooked commander of the Orient. He could think of nothing else all that day. Finally an idea popped into his head. “Captain Hardwick,” he said, as soon as he could find the commander, “wouldn’t the Navy Yard wireless help us out?”’
“Help us out? What do you mean?”
“Why, to catch the Orient, to be sure.”
The commander laughed. “Are you still thinking about that?” he said.
“Of course I’m thinking about it. You said you wanted help.”
“Well, bless my stars!” cried the commander. “Let’s hear all about it. How is the Navy Yard wireless to help us catch the Orient?” He was laughing good-naturedly, but he began to look interested as Henry unfolded his plan.
“Why couldn’t the Navy Yard sound the Orient’s call and keep on sending at intervals, whether she answered or not?”
“Doubtless the Navy Yard could, but what good would it do?”
“Why, sooner or later curiosity would get the better of the Orient’s operator and he’d answer.”
“By George! Hemight. And what then?”
“Ask him some question that he would be likely to answer.”
“What, for instance?”
“Well, if you asked if the Orient had seen anything of some long-overdue steamer that sails the same waters the Orient does, wouldn’t he answer that? There is certainly nothing in such a request that would arouse suspicion.”
“That might work,” said the captain thoughtfully. “It’s a thing that’s often done. And the Navy Yard could call other boats far away from the Orient and ask the same question. That would make it even less suspicious. Yes, I believe that would work. The question is, Are there any boats that sail to southern waters that are now overdue?” The captain paused in thought. “I believe there are two,” he continued. “If we got the Orient, we could ask her position. It wouldn’t matter whether she gave it correctly or not. It would keep her wireless going and give us more time to get a good compass bearing. I believe we'll try it.”
The captain got into his launch and went ashore. He was gone a long time. When he returned, he called Henry to his cabin. “We're going to try your plan,” he said. “The Navy will call the Orient, and, if an answer is received, will get a compass bearing and let us know where the ship is and when she will arrive at Ambrose Lightship. We can meet her and search her. You will likely hear the Navy Yard call the Orient if you keep your ears open.”
Henry informed his fellow-watchers in the radio shack as to what was afoot, and an element of interest was added to their watches. Also he asked Mr. Sharp if he might try for a compass bearing himself, in case the Orient was heard. “I’ve already used a radio compass,” said Henry. “They had one at Frankfort, but that was a long time ago, and that instrument would now be considered antiquated.” The chief radio man was pleased to have so eager a pupil, and instructed Henry in all the principles of the latest radio compass, such as the one on the Iroquois.
By good luck Henry himself was on duty and caught the very first call for the Orient. “WND—de—NAH,” signaled the operator at the Navy Yard.
But there was no reply. Again and again the watchers on the Iroquois heard the call of the Orient flung out by the operator in the Navy Yard. Finally the ruse succeeded. The Orient’s operator could stand it no longer. He answered the call. When he did, Henry flew to the com-pass shack, while Belford kept the watch. Again and again, as the Navy men talked to the Orient, Henry revolved his compass until he was certain he had the ship’s position, which he plotted on the map in the radio room. The Orient had also given her position. This time Henry saw she had told the truth. The position she gave agreed with that which he had caught on the radio compass. Evidently she didn’t care to play crooked with the Navy Yard. Eagerly Henry waited to see what the Navy Yard operator would report. His report, of course, would have to come by telephone. It would never have done to send it by wireless, lest the Orient might hear as well as the Iroquois. The captain sent Lieutenant Hill ashore to receive this telephone communication. When, finally, Henry learned what the Navy Yard operator had to report, he found that his own compass bearing agreed almost exactly with it. He was delighted that he had been so accurate.
According to the calculations from the Navy Yard, the Orient could not possibly arrive at the Ambrose Lightship before daybreak, but Captain Hardwick was not willing to take any chances with a man he knew to be as slippery as the commander of the Orient. Accordingly he got the custom inspectors who were to accompany him, dropped down the Bay during the night, and lay at anchor near the lightship, waiting for the opium carrier.
Daybreak found the Orient, true to her reckoning, approaching the Iroquois. The latter signaled to her to stop. Promptly the Orient hove to, and Captain Hardwick sent two small boats, containing the half dozen custom inspectors and a dozen of his own crew, to search the southern freighter from stem to stern.
The commander of the Orient was plainly taken aback. Before he fully realized what was happening, the boarding parties from the Iroquois were swarming up the Orient’s ladder. Like oil on water, they spread to all parts of the ship, before the crew could make a move to conceal anything. Captain Hardwick knew what he was about when he sent twice as many of his tars aboard as there were custom inspectors. The able seamen made a dive for the forecastle and began a systematic search of the sailors’ living quarters. Some of the custom inspectors sealed up the cargo holds, so these could be inspected leisurely at the dock later on, while others were examining the quarters aft. It was soon evident that the search would require much time, so the workers settled down with grim persistence, while the crew of the Orient passed jokes at their expense and went as far as they dared in taunting the unsuccessful searchers.
On the Iroquois, meanwhile, time passed slowly. There was nothing for the sailors to do but sit about and wait for the return of their comrades. In the radio house both Belford and Harper were trying to possess themselves in patience. They sat with their feet up on the desk, talking, with the wireless coupled up to the loud speaker. Whenever a message sounded, they paused in their talk to listen.
“Just hear that. You might think it came from next door,” said Henry, as a sudden signal fairly burst from the loud speaker. “Only that isn’t the Orient’s call.”
OIN was calling RET. “They’re queer calls,” commented Belford. “I never heard either before.”
RET answered OIN almost immediately, and in another instant the message was booming in the loud speaker. Belford copied it as it came. “No fish to-day. Held up by sharks. All safe aloft.”
“Well, that’s a queer message,” said Henry. “Some fishermen with a wireless outfit, I suppose, telling a customer he has nothing for him. Probably been out in a gale, and escaped damage to his top-hamper. I can’t understand about the sharks, though. They might scare away the fish, but I don’t see how they could hold up a boat.”
They resumed their conversation. Time passed. After some hours one of the small boats returned from the Orient, with some of the sailors. The remainder, and the custom officials, were still aboard. It had been decided to proceed to New York without further loss of time. The search would continue during the run, and the sealed cargo holds could be examined at the pier.
Slowly the Orient got under way and headed for the harbor, convoyed by the Iroquois. When they were halfway up the channel, the two lads in the radio shack paused again to listen to another message from the loud speaker. RET was calling OIN, and the signal sounded weak and far away, but when OIN replied, the signals fairly screeched from the loud speaker.
“By George!” cried Henry. “That OIN must be mighty close at hand. The call could hardly be louder if it came from the Orient here. I’m curious to know where it does come from.”
When RET began sending, Belford again wrote down the message. “Put fish in trap when leaving port. Glad top-hamper safe.”
“Jiminy crickets!” said Belford. “That’s a funny one. OIN says he has no fish for RET, and RET turns around and tells him to put the fish in the trap when he leaves port. That doesn’t sound sensible to me.”
He shoved the scraps of paper bearing the messages over to Henry. Jimmy had written the messages close together, like this:
Henry looked at the sheet of paper lazily for a moment. Then he almost sprang out of his chair. “Look, Jimmy!” he cried. “See how the letters of those two calls combine.” He pointed to the signals his companion had written down at the commencement of each line. “If you begin with O, then jump up to R, and keep on moving from bottom line to top, you get the word ‘Orient.’ I believe we’ve caught something important.”
Belford pulled the paper toward himself and studied the riddle. “Jiminy crickets!” he cried. “You're right, Henry. What do you suppose it all means? I thought from the first that there was something queer about those calls.”
“Well,” replied’ Henry, “it is perfectly evident that OIN must be mighty close at hand, the way her signal comes cracking in. That’s just the way a signal would sound from the Orient. And RET is either very far away, or else has a weak little set. Inasmuch as we are going into port and the message seems to be to a customer, I’d guess that the customer has a weak little outfit—probably a home-made affair run by dry cells. But what all this stuff about fish and sharks means, I can’t guess.”
“Do you suppose we ought to bother the captain with it?”
“It won’t do any harm. If this message was from the Orient, it has some hidden meaning, and of course the captain ought to know about it.”
“Suppose you take it to him, Henry.”
Henry grabbed up the sheet of paper and went to the captain. “Bless my stars!” ejaculated the captain, when he had read the two messages. “This is as good as a Sunday newspaper puzzle. And it’s about as easy to guess. Fish would mean opium, of course; and if sharks are the things that held back the opium, I reckon either we or the custom men are the sharks. Maybe they meant Sparks, eh?” And the captain laughed merrily at Henry.
“Maybe Sparks will stop them, after all,” grinned Henry.
“Let’s turn it into plain English,” continued the captain. “‘We cannot deliver any opium to you to-day because the custom officials have grabbed us. Everything is safe aloft.’ Now why should he tell his customer that his rigging is still all right? What has that to do with it!”
“I don’t know, Captain, unless it has something to do with the opium.”
“By George!” cried the commander. “Let’s put it that way. We'll read the message all over again. ‘We cannot deliver you any opium today because the custom officials have grabbed us. But the stuff is safe aloft.’”
“Do you suppose it means that?” cried Henry, much excited.
“You can guess as well as I can. Now let’s go on with this thing. What does the answer say? Let’s see.” The captain bent over the paper again and read, “‘Put fish in trap when leaving port. Glad top-hamper is safe.’” He paused and chuckled. “Plain as day, isn’t it, Henry? ‘Put your opium in the trap when you leave the harbor. We’re glad your opium is safe.’ If we haven’t guessed their little riddle, I’ll eat my hat. Come on, we’ll see whether we are right or not.”
The commander went on deck. Jimmy flashed an order for the Orient to heave to again. A small boat was lowered and in a few moments the commander of the cutter stood on the deck of the freighter. The searchers looked grim. The Orient’s crew were grinning.
“What success?” asked the captain.
“None,” said the leader of the custom officials.
Captain Hardwick removed his cap and began to scan the top-hamper of the Orient. He saw that the forward crow’s-nest was unusually large and commodious. He called two of his sailors. “Boys,” he cried, “skip up the rigging and take a look in those crow’s-nests. Make sure there are no false bottoms in them.”
The crew of the Orient lost their grins, as the sailors from the cutter hustled up the rigging. “Nothing here,” called down the sailor who had mounted to the after crow’s-nest. The man on the forward mast did not answer so promptly. He was measuring with eye and arm the inner and outer dimensions of the big crow’s-nest. Suddenly his eye caught sight of a nail, bent like a hook, that projected above the flooring at one edge of the crow’s-nest. He crooked a finger under it and pulled. The whole floor came up. Beneath it, packed tightly together, were enough cans of opium to fill several suit-cases.
“The stuff is here, Captain,” called the sailor.