THE RADIO WARNING
“Clintonia!” cried Bob. “That’s our home town!”
“Swept by flames!” gasped Joe, the sweat starting out on his brow.
“Loss of life feared!” groaned Jimmy, as he visioned his own people
perhaps trapped by the fire.
“I wonder if our folks were caught in it,” moaned Herb.
Johnson and Marston looked at them with deep sympathy.
“I had forgotten that that’s where you came from,” said Johnson.
“But you mustn’t take it too hard. The message didn’t say there was
any actual loss of life. A fire isn’t like an earthquake. People
usually have a chance to get away from it. And as to the property,
most of it was probably insured.”
“And these first reports are usually exaggerated,” put in Marston.
“Folks lose their heads in the excitement, and then, too, the
newspapers make a big story of it for the sake of startling
headlines. You just take my advice and don’t worry too much until
you get later news.”
But their well-meant sympathy was of little avail. The Radio Boys
were in an agony of grief and apprehension. A crushing blow had
fallen upon them.
If they could only be there, on the spot, to share with their loved
ones whatever of woe and loss had come to them! None of them knew
but what they might at that moment be fatherless or motherless. The
possible money loss was bad enough, but infinitely worse was that
ominous clause at the end of the message with all of its sinister
suggestion:
“Loss of life feared!”
Whose lives?
With the promise of the wireless men to use every means of getting
further information as soon as possible sounding in their ears, the
boys left the wireless room. They were on the way to their own cabin
where they could think and talk over the calamity together, when
they came across Captain Springer, who was just emerging from his
room.
He started as he saw the ghastly looks on their faces.
“What is the matter?” he asked quickly.
In half-broken and almost incoherent words, they told him, and ready
sympathy leaped into his face as he listened.
“That is indeed terrible news,” he said gravely. “I feel it, not
only for your sake, but for the sake of your people, to whom I am
indebted for such kindly hospitality. It touches me very nearly. But
let us hope it may turn out to be much less serious than you fear.
I’ll do my very best to get further information for you at the
earliest moment possible.”
They thanked him, and went on their way to the stateroom they shared
together. There they exchanged their hopes and fears.
They saw the old Clintonia that they knew, where all of them had
been born and brought up, with its pleasantly shaded streets, its
schools, churches, homes and business blocks. It was a part of
themselves, and they loved it. Now they visioned it as blackened and
blighted, the houses mere masses of débris, a prey to the red fire
demon they had learned to hate at that time when they had fought its
fury in the flaming forests of Spruce Mountain.
But far worse than that was the possibility they conjured up of
personal harm, perhaps death, having come to their dear ones. The
material damage could be replaced, the town could be rebuilt and be
made more beautiful than before, but nothing could restore their
people if death had laid a hand on them.
They talked together for a long time, in low and trembling voices,
and tried to cheer each other up. Then at last they climbed into
their bunks and tried to sleep. But sleep refused to come to them,
except in brief and fevered dozings, and it was a haggard group of
Radio Boys that left the stateroom in the morning.
As soon as they could, they hurried to the radio room, where
Marston, who was on duty, had been obeying the orders of the captain
and doing all that he could, consistent with his other duties, to
get in touch with Clintonia.
But so much difficulty was encountered in getting information, owing
to the breakdown of telegraph and telephone service and the general
state of confusion existing in the stricken town, that the effort
had to be deferred to a more favorable time.
The boys were desperate at the necessity, but they summoned all
their courage to sustain them during the waiting. The only thing to
do was to bear their trouble manfully and hope for the best.
A warning that came by wireless helped to turn their minds for a
time into another channel. A big iceberg had been sighted by a
freight steamer. Latitude and longitude were given, and the _Meteor_
was soon tearing through the water in quest of the menace to life
and property.
“How long will it take us to sight the iceberg?” inquired Bob.
“We’ll probably reach it sometime tomorrow morning,” answered
Johnson. “Why are you so anxious to see your first iceberg?”
“Not so much to see the iceberg, as to see it blown up,” replied
Bob. “It must be a sight worth watching.”
“The real excitement,” affirmed Johnson, “is in boarding the iceberg
and setting the charge. TNT isn’t the safest thing in the world to
handle, and ice is slippery stuff to travel on. Oh, there’s plenty
of excitement at times for the landing party.”
“That means that we’ll have to be part of the landing party then,”
announced Bob. “How about it, fellows?”
“Not for mine!” exclaimed Jimmy, raising one hand in the attitude of
taking an oath. “You fellows can climb around icebergs with cans of
explosive strapped to your backs all you want to, but I’ll stick to
the ship and watch you work. Besides, tomorrow’s the day I get my
doughnuts, and I can’t take a chance on missing them.”
“Well, then, we’ll have to struggle along without you,” said Joe. “I
want to be in on whatever’s doing, though. How about you, Herb?”
“Surest thing you know! I don’t think we ought to let Jimmy off so
easily, though. He’d make an ideal one to carry the TNT. If he
slipped, he could let the can fall on top of him, and he’s so nice
and fat that it would cushion the fall.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t matter if it broke a few of my ribs, would
it?” asked the fat boy.
“Oh, well, it would be in a good cause, so you oughtn’t to mind.”
“Perhaps not; but I do, all the same. Anyway, it isn’t likely that
Captain Springer will let any of you go.”
“Maybe not; but we’ll try. Come on, fellows, let’s put it up to the
captain right away and get it over with.”
Jimmy’s prediction pretty nearly came true, for at first Captain
Springer was very reluctant to let them go. But Bob urged so
earnestly and yet respectfully, and the captain had so high an idea
of the courage and common sense of the boys, that, at least, he was
open to argument. At length, ably seconded by his friends, Bob won
the captain over to his point of view, and it was settled that they
should be included in the landing party.
This settled, the boys set themselves to await, with what patience
they could, until they should reach the iceberg.
The _Meteor_ held a fast pace all night, and shortly after daybreak
of the following day the lookout in the crow’s nest sighted the
wandering berg. It was a big one; in fact, one of the largest they
had ever had to handle, one of the crew told Bob. It would be no
easy task to break it up, and the boys were assured of plenty of
excitement while the attempt was in progress.
Immediately after breakfast a boat was lowered, and the crew,
including Bob and Joe and Herb, took their places at the oars. In
the stern were two cans of TNT, each about as large as an ordinary
nail keg. There was enough high explosive in each one to tear the
_Meteor_ to shreds had it gone off, and, as can be imagined, the
cans were carefully handled.
In a few minutes all was in readiness, and the second officer, Mr.
Mayhew, who was in charge of the boat, gave the command to shove
off. The crew gave way with a will, and the boat dashed off toward
the iceberg.