CHAPTER XIII
WISHING IT ON MR. SAMBO
"Oho!" breathed young Reade, as he crouched low behind the fringe ofbushes, peering toward the beach.
It was now somewhat past midnight. For three hours Tom had been scoutingstealthily along this shore section, well to the west of the breakwater.
For, in pondering over the explosions, Tom had come to the conclusion thatthe blow-outs on the retaining wall, however accomplished, were controlledfrom a point to the westward of the sea wall.
This conclusion had been rather a simple matter to a trained engineer.Tom had witnessed the flash of one explosion, and that, as he remembered,had sprung up at the west side of the wall. Moreover, the appearance andcondition of the wall, at the point of each explosion, had shown that theattack in each case must have been made at the west side of the wall.
And now, after nearly three hours of work, Tom Reade had come upon a realclue.
"Another blow-out is arranged for to-night, just as I had expected," Reademuttered, with an angry thrill, as he glanced at a figure down on thebeach. "Moreover, my guess that the huge negro is the fellow who touchesoff the blow-outs has proved to be the correct one."
Down on the beach a big, black man was moving about stealthily. Though thespot was a lonely one, this scoundrel plainly intended to take nounnecessary risks of detection.
Just at the present moment the negro was placing in the water acurious-looking little raft that he had brought on one shoulder from itsplace of concealment. It was something like a flat-bottomed scow, thesides being just high enough to prevent whatever cargo it carried, fromrolling off into the water.
The raft placed and secured to the shore, the negro crouched in his hidingplace in a jungle of bushes. He soon reappeared, carrying four metaltubes.
"The explosive is in the tubes," guessed Tom easily. "And at one end ofeach tube is a sharp metal point that permits of being driven into thecrevices in the wall. Four, or more, of these tubes are thrust into thewall, I suppose, and connected in series, so that they can be fired by thesame electric spark. These tubes and the wires are water-proofed. Thenegro is only the dastardly workman in this case. It was never he whoinvented the trick. But he must be an excellent workman, who ought to beemployed in much more honest effort. I wonder if the fellow is going touse more than four tubes?"
All of these thoughts ran through the mind of Tom as he crouched, peeringeagerly at the negro.
By this time the negro was taking to the water, towing his miniature scowand its explosive cargo as he swam.
"He must be a good swimmer, and also a good diver," concluded Tom. "Withmy men patrolling the sea wall he must have to dive, some distance away,swim under water, and remain there until he has secured one of the tubesin place. Then he has to get back, out of range of the lanterns' rays, andget his breath before he goes back to the next job. But maybe I caninterfere with his work to-night."
Though he rose and moved away, Reade, despite the darkness of the night,was careful to keep himself concealed behind the bushes, so that he couldnot be observed from beach or water. Shortly the young engineer was overat the point in the jungle from which he had seen the negro emerge withscow and explosives.
"The fellow must use a magneto, attached to wires running under the water,"concluded Tom. "At that rate, the first real job is to find the magneto.My, but Mr. Sambo Ebony may be wondering, to-night, why his blow-outdoesn't work as easily as usual!"
Simple as the search ought to have been, Tom Reade was soon on the pointof despair.
"If it isn't a magneto, or if I can't find it in time," Tom muttereduneasily, "the mystery may remain nearly as great as ever, and theexplosion may be pulled off to-night, after all."
Twenty minutes passed before Reade, with all his senses alert, stumbledon the concealed magneto. It had been so well hidden, under a mass ofrocks, that it would not have been astonishing had Tom missed italtogether.
Attached to the magneto was the wire that must connect, in some way, withthe series of tubes that would soon be fastened in the retaining wall outyonder. Yet this wire ran into the ground, and then vanished.
"Now, I've simply got to hustle!" sighed Tom Reade nervously. "If I don'tsucceed in raising the wire, and in a mighty short space of time, I may beto-night's fool yet. I'd really like to wish that on the black man, too!"
By using his eyes and his reasoning powers Reade, after twenty minutes moreof search, with some sly digging, unearthed a section of the wire somedozen feet from the magneto.
"Now, it must be really the swiftest sort of work," murmured the youngengineer, after a glance seaward. He seated himself with his face turnedtoward the Gulf, gathered the exposed section of wire up into his lap, thendrew a pair of wire nippers from his pocket.
Snip! Tom now had two ends of wire in his hands. That would have beenenough, had Reade chosen to bury the ends and conceal all evidence of hiswork. However, he believed that a more workmanlike way could be found.
From the same pocket Tom drew out a three inch piece of pure rubber cable,wrapped in water-proof tape. This he fastened to the severed ends of thewire, binding the whole as neatly as a lineman could have done.
"Rubber is believed to be a pretty good insulator," chuckled Reade, as hefinished. "I don't believe the spark is made that can jump three inchesof rubber. Certainly magneto-power can't do it. Now, let me see what sortof a trail-concealer I am."
Tom laid the wire back in the ground, covering it carefully with his hands.
"I wish I dared strike a match, so that I could judge better just how mywork looks," he sighed. "However, I don't believe Mr. Sambo Ebony willthink it discreet to strike any matches either, so he won't find the placewhere I've been fooling with his work.
"Now, I'll get back out of sight, where I belong," muttered Tom, risingcautiously. "I hope, though, I can find a place where I can see the lookon that darkey's face when he tries his magneto and waits for the bing!from out yonder. Oh, Sambo, you simply can't have any idea of how I'vebeen wishing it on you tonight!"
As the bushes grew thickly hereabouts, and there were many hollows in thesurface of the earth, Reade had little trouble in finding what he believedto be a satisfactory hiding place. It enabled him to hide his head withinfifteen feet of the handle of the magneto.
A soft, southerly wind blew in from the Gulf. As long as he could Readefought drowsiness. Again and again he opened his eyes with a start.
"I mustn't do this," Tom told himself angrily. "No gentleman will go tosleep at the switch---when it's his train that is coming!"
Yet still he found himself nodding. Had he deemed it safe Tom would havesprung up and walked about briskly. But this, he knew, was to invitebeing discovered by the returning negro.
So, at last, despite himself, Tom fell asleep.
How much time had passed he never knew. At last, however, he awoke with astart. Reproachfully he rubbed his eyes.
"Not a bit too soon!" he muttered, as his ears caught sound of anapproaching step, and his eyes showed him the hulking form of the massivefoe. "Here comes my black man!"