CHAPTER XV--AN UNEXPECTED RESCUER
"Have you spoken to Harry yet, Tom?" inquired Ben, two days after theoverturning of the plots of Mart Walters and his city friend, BertAldrich.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and things wireless had been slackat Station Z ever since morning. Tom turned from his chair at the windowwhere he had been dreamily surveying the open sea.
"No, Ben," he replied a little gravely. "I came near doing it lastnight, but I didn't know but it might worry him, or make him think I wastrying to pry into his personal business."
"I tell you, Tom, I think Harry ought to be told about the mysterious'Donner' messages, and asked to explain about the tattooed sun, moon andstars on his left shoulder."
"I fancy he's about through with his task in the pasture by now," saidTom. "Supposing you go up to the house, get him down here, and we'll tryto introduce the subject so it won't frighten or bother him."
"All right," assented Ben with alacrity, and was forthwith on his way.
Tom resumed his place at the window. His back was to the road running upfrom the beach to the village, and he was not aware of an unexpectedarrival from that direction until a man's voice sounding within the roomhailed him.
"Hey, boy, who's in charge here?"
"I am," answered Tom, turning to confront two men who in turn enteredthe tower by way of the trap door. They were strangers in Rockley Cove,and Tom did not at all like their looks. The man who had accosted himhad a sharp, hard eye. His companion was furtive-faced, and suggested aperson constantly on the watch.
"We want to send a message," the former proceeded. "In cypher."
"Where to?" inquired Tom.
"The man pointed seawards."
"To a ship?"
"Yes, to the _Councillor_, bound for Canada."
Tom shook his head discouragingly.
"You will have to go to Station O at Deepdale. This is only ademonstration plant, and I have no orders to take commercial business,"explained Tom.
The man drew out a pocketbook.
"See here," he said, "I'll give you ten dollars to send the message."
"I'm sorry, but it's against the rules."
"Jackson, do it yourself," spoke the other man quickly, pressing closeto his companion's side.
"I'm out of practice."
"Oh, you can manage it."
"Hold on, there. I can't allow any interference with the apparatushere," said Tom, stepping in front of the first man as he started overtowards the operating table.
"Can't, eh?" sneered the man. "Well, you'll have to. Keep him quiet,Griffin."
"I've got him," announced the man addressed.
He had caught Tom by the wrist. As the latter struggled to free himself,his captor dragged him toward a closet in one corner of the room.
Its door stood open. The closet was oak framed, built into the wall ofthe room, and had a stout door with a small circular slit in it. Mr.Edson had utilized it to lock up things he did not wish to leave lyingaround loose, when he left the tower at night. Tom had used it as astoreroom for surplus parts of the wireless outfit.
It had a strong padlock. The man threw Tom in roughly, secured thepadlock, and then went up to the table. His companion was closelyinspecting the apparatus.
"I'm at home at the regular key," he said. "I don't know whether I canwork this, though."
"Of course you can," urged the other. "Get ready. I've got the cypherkey and the message right here," and he took two sheets of paper fromhis pocket.
Tom was helpless. He could not possibly force the heavy door of thecloset from its fastenings. Shouting would do no good. If he attemptedit, his jailers would probably treat him roughly, for they werevicious-looking fellows. Tom hoped for the return of Ben and Harry, orthe arrival of someone else to interrupt the man at the table. Meanwhilehe was on the keen alert as to all that individual was doing.
The minute this man got his bearings, he started in with confidence. Tomlearned that he was flashing a message to the steamer _Councillor_,bound from New York to Halifax. In plain English, the operator on the_Councillor_ was instructed to deliver a message to a passengeranswering to the name of Daniel Ritchie. The message itself was a lot ofprivate code-words, utterly unintelligible to Tom.
The sender repeated the message and got up from the table.
"Hit or miss, that is the best I can do," he remarked.
"Hit or miss, you've done all that could be expected of you," remarkedhis companion. "What are you going to do with him?" questioned thespeaker, with a shrug of his shoulders towards Tom's place ofimprisonment.
"Oh, leave him where he is. We want a start, and someone will come alongto let him out. So long, son. You might have made ten dollars if you'dsaved me the trouble of showing you that I'm some wireless myself."
Both men laughed coarsely and left the tower. Tom knew it was futile toexpect his liberty except through the accidental visit of someone. Hecontented himself by trying to recall what he could remember of themessage sent. He tried also to figure out the motive for the men'sactions.
"They have got word to someone aboard the steamer _Councillor_," musedTom. "The trouble they went to to do it looks suspicious and mysterious,though. Hello!"
Tom stared hard at the trap door opening. Through it a head wasprotruded.
"Anybody here?" its owner called out.
"Yes, I am here," announced Tom, moving his hand through the slit in thecloset door.
"Tom Barnes!"
"That's right."
And then Tom gave a start as he recognized his unexpected visitor asBill Barber, head of the Black Caps.