Page 11 of The Social Gangster


  CHAPTER XI

  THE INFERNAL MACHINES

  He ripped the little mechanical eavesdropper out, wires and all, but hedid not disconnect the wires, yet.

  We traced it out, and down into the cellar the wires led, directly, andthen across, through a small opening in the foundations into the nextcellar of an apartment house, ending in a bin or storeroom.

  In itself the thing, so far, gave no clew as to who was using it or thepurpose for which it had been installed. But it was strange.

  "Someone _was_ evidently trying to get something from you, Mr. Gaskell,"remarked Craig pointedly, after we returned to the Gaskell library. "Whydo you suppose he went to all that trouble?"

  Gaskell shrugged his shoulders and averted his eyes.

  "I've heard of a yacht outside New York harbor," added Craig casually.

  "A yacht?"

  "Yes," he said nonchalantly, "the _Furious_."

  Gaskell met Kennedy's eye and looked at him as though Craig had someoccult power of divination. Then he moved over closer to us.

  "Is that detectaphone thing out of business now?" he asked, hoarsely.

  "Yes."

  "Absolutely?"

  "Absolutely."

  Gaskell leaned over.

  "Then I don't mind telling you, Professor Kennedy," he said in a lowtone, "that I am letting a friend of mine from London use that yacht tosupply some allied warships on the Atlantic with news, supplies andammunition, such as can be carried."

  Kennedy looked at him keenly, but for some moments did not answer. Iknew he was debating on how he might properly dove-tail this withBurke's case, ethically.

  "Someone is trying to find out from eavesdropping just what your plansare, then," remarked Craig thoughtfully, with a significant tap on thedetectaphone.

  A moment later he turned his back to us and knelt down. He seemed to bewrapping the detectaphone up in a small package which he put in hispocket and closing the hole in the wall as best he could where he hadripped the paper.

  "All I ask of you," concluded Gaskell, as we left a few minutes later,"is to keep your hands off that phase of things. Find theincendiary--yes; but this other matter that you have forced out ofme--well--hands off!"

  On our way downtown to keep the appointment Kennedy had made with Burkethe night before, he stopped at the laboratory to get a heavy parcelwhich he carried along.

  We found Burke waiting for us, impatiently, at the Customs House.

  "We've just discovered that the liners over at Hoboken have had steam upfor a couple of days," he said excitedly. "Evidently they are waiting tomake a break for the ocean--perhaps in concert with a sortie of thefleets over in Europe."

  "H-m," mused Kennedy, looking fixedly at Burke, "that complicatesmatters, doesn't it? We must preserve American neutrality."

  He thought a moment. "I should like to go aboard the revenue cutter. MayI?"

  "Surely," agreed Burke.

  A few moments later we were on the _Uncas_, Kennedy and Burke in earnestconversation in low tones which I did not overhear. Evidently Craig wastelling him just enough of what he had himself discovered so as toenlist Burke's services.

  The captain in charge of the _Uncas_ joined the conversation a fewmoments later, and then Kennedy took the heavy package down below. Forsome time he was at work in one of the forward tanks that was full ofwater, attaching the thing, whatever it was, in such a way that itseemed to form part of the skin of the ship.

  Another brief talk with Burke and the captain followed, and then thethree returned to the deck.

  "Oh, by the way," remarked Burke, as he and Kennedy came back to me, "Iforgot to tell you that I have had some of my men working on the caseand one of them has just learned that a fellow named Petzka, one of thebest wireless operators,--a Hungarian or something--has been engaged togo on that yacht."

  "Petzka?" I repeated involuntarily.

  "Yes," said Burke, in surprise, "do you know anything about him?"

  I turned to Kennedy.

  "Not much," replied Craig. "But you can find out about him, I think,through his wife. He used to be one of my students. Here's her address.She's very anxious to hear from him. I'm sure that if you have any newsshe will be only too glad to receive it."

  Burke took the address and a little while later we went ashore.

  I was not surprised when Kennedy proposed, as the next move, to revisitthe cellar in the apartment next to Gaskell's house. But I was surprisedat what he said, after we had reached the place.

  All along I had supposed that he was planning to wait there in hope ofcatching the person who had installed the detectaphone. That, of course,was a possibility, still. But in reality he had another purpose, also.

  We had scarcely secreted ourselves in the cellar storeroom, which was ina dark corner where one might remain unobserved even if the janitorentered the cellar, provided he did not search that part, when Kennedytook the receiving headpiece of the detectaphone and placed it over hishead, quite as if nothing had happened.

  "What's the use of that?" I queried. "You ripped the transmitter out upabove."

  He smiled quietly. "While my back was turned toward you, so that youcouldn't see," he said, "I slipped the thing back again, only downfurther where Gaskell wouldn't be likely to find it, even if he looked.I don't know whether he was frank with us, so I thought I'd try theeavesdropping game myself, in place of the man who put this thing in inthe first place, whoever he was."

  We took turns listening, but could hear not a sound. Nor did anyone comeinto the cellar.

  So a good part of the afternoon passed, apparently fruitless.

  My patience was thoroughly exhausted when, suddenly, a motion from Craigrevived my flagging interest. I waited impatiently for him to tell mewhat it was that he heard.

  "What was it?" I asked finally as he pulled the receivers off his headand stood for a moment, considering.

  "At first I heard the sound of voices," he answered quickly. "One wasthe voice of a woman, which I recognized. It was the Countess. The otherwas the Count.

  "'Giulia,' I heard him say, as they entered the room, 'I don't see whyyou should want to go. It's dangerous. And besides, it's none of ourbusiness if your father lets his yacht be used for such a purpose.'

  "'But I want to go, Alex,' she said. 'I will go. I'm a good sailor. It'sfather's yacht. He won't care.'

  "'But what's the use?' he expostulated. 'Besides--think of the danger.If it was our business, it might be different.'

  "'I should think you'd want to go.'

  "'Not I. I can get all the excitement I want in a motor-boat racewithout risking my precious neck pulling the chestnuts out of the firefor someone else.'

  "'Well, I want the adventure,' she persisted, petulantly.

  "'But, Giulia, if you go tonight, think of the risk--'

  "That was the last I heard as they left the room, still arguing.Evidently, someone is going to pull off something tonight."

  It did not take Kennedy long to make up his mind what to do next. Heleft the cellar hurriedly and in the laboratory hastily fixed up asecond heavy and bulky package similar to that which he had taken downto the revenue cutter earlier in the day, making it into two parcels soas to distribute the burden between us.

  That night we journeyed out to Oceanhurst again. Avoiding the regularroad, we made our way from the station to the Gaskell place by aroundabout path and it was quite dark by the time we got there.

  As we approached the basin we saw that there were several men about.They appeared to be on guard, but since Oceanhurst at that season of theyear was pretty deserted and the Gaskell estate was out of the town,they were not especially vigilant.

  Dark and grim, with only one light showing weakly, lay the yacht, havingbeen run into the basin, now. A hawser had been stretched across themouth of the basin. Outside was a little tender, while a searchlight wasplaying over the water all the time. Evidently whatever interference wasfeared was expected from the water rather than from the land.


  We slunk into the shadow of a row of bath-houses, in order to get ourbearings. On the opposite side from the road that led down from thehouse, it was not so likely that anyone would suspect that interloperswere hiding there.

  Still, they were not neglecting that side of the basin, at least in aperfunctory sort of way.

  Kennedy drew me back into the shadow, deeper, at the sound of footstepson the boardwalk leading in front of the bath-houses.

  From our hiding place we could now hear two voices, apparently ofsailors.

  "Do you know the new wireless operator who goes with us tonight?" askedone.

  "No. They've been very careful of him. I guess they were afraid thatsomeone might get wise. But there couldn't very well be any leak, there.One of those Englishmen has been with him every minute since he wasengaged."

  "They say he's pretty good. Who is he?"

  "A Servian, he says, and his name sounds as if it might be so."

  The voices trailed off. It was only a scrap of conversation, but Kennedyhad not missed a word of it.

  "That means Petzka," he nodded to me.

  "What is he--a Hungarian or a Servian?" I asked quickly.

  Kennedy had craned his neck out beyond the corner of the bath-houses andwas looking at the _Furious_ in the basin.

  "Come on, Walter," he whispered, not taking time to answer my question."Those fellows have gone. There's no one at all on this side of thebasin and I just saw the men on deck go up the gangplank to theboat-house. They can't do any more than put us off, anyhow."

  He had watched his chance well. As quickly as we could, burdened down byour two heavy packages, we managed to slip across the boardwalk to thepiling that formed that side of the basin. The _Furious_ had swung overwith the tide nearer our side than the other. It was a daring leap, buthe made it as lightly as a cat, landing on the deck. I passed over thepackages to him and followed.

  Kennedy scarcely paused to glance about. He had chosen a moment when noone was looking, and, bending down under the weight of the packages wedodged back of a cabin. A dim light shining into the hold told us thatno one was there and we dived down. It was the work of a moment tosecrete ourselves in the blank darkness behind a pile of boxes, aft.

  A noise startled us. Someone was coming down the steep, ladder-likestairs. A moment later we heard another noise. There were two of them,moving about among the boxes. From our hiding place we could overhearthem talking in hoarse whispers, but could not see them.

  "Where did you put them?" asked a voice.

  "In every package of explosives and in as many of the boxes of cannedgoods as I had time. There wasn't much opportunity except while thestuff was in the boat-house."

  I looked at Kennedy, wild-eyed. Was there treachery in the crew? He wasleaning forward as much as our cramped quarters would permit, so as notto miss a word.

  "All right," said the other voice. "No one suspects?"

  "No. But the Secret Service has been pretty busy. They suspectsomething--but not this."

  "Good. You are sure that you can detonate them when the time comes?"

  "Positive. Everything is working fine. I've done my part of it.Changing wireless operators gave me just the chance I wanted."

  "All right. I guess I'll go now."

  "Remember the signal. As soon as the things are detonated I will getoff, some way, by wireless the S O S--as if it came from the fleet, youunderstand?"

  "Yes--that will be the signal for the dash. Good luck--I'm going ashorenow."

  As they passed up the ladder, I could no longer restrain myself.

  "Craig," I cried, "this is devilish!"

  I thought I saw it all now. In the cases of goods on the _Furious_ weresome terrible infernal machines which had been hidden, to be detonatedby these deadly rays of wireless.

  Kennedy was busy, working quickly putting together the parts he hadtaken from the two packages we had carried.

  As I watched him, I realized that the burning of the Rovigno house wasnot the action of an incendiary, after all. It had been done by thesedeadly rays, probably by mere accident.

  As nearly as I could make it out, there was a counterplot against the_Furious_. Somewhere was an infernal workshop, possibly hedged about bydoors of steel which ordinary force would find hard to penetrate, butfrom which, any moment, this super-criminal might send out his deadlypower.

  The more I considered it, while Kennedy worked, the more uncanny itseemed. This man had rendered the mere possession of explosives moredangerous to the possessor than to the enemy.

  Archimedes had been outdone!

  The problem before us now was not only the preservation of Americanneutrality, but the actual safety of life.

  Through the open hatch I could now hear voices on the deck. One was thatof a woman, which I recognized quickly. It was Julia Rovigno.

  "I'll be just as quiet as a mouse," she was saying. "I'll stay in thecabin--I won't be in the way."

  I could not hear the man's voice in reply, but it did not sound likeRovigno's. It was rather like Gaskell's.

  Still, we had heard enough to know that Julia Rovigno was on the yacht,had insisted on going on the expedition for the excitement of the thing,just as we had heard over the detectaphone.

  "Hadn't we better warn her?" I asked Craig, who had paused in his workat the sound of voices.

  Before he could answer we were plunged in sudden darkness. Someone hadswitched out the light that had been shining down through the hatchway.Before we knew it the opening to the hatchway had been closed.