A CATASTROPHE
Henry gave slight heed to the young operator’s threat. Not for one
second did he fear violence from him. Should any physical encounter
occur, he was sure he could take care of himself, and he saw no
other way in which young Black could harm him. He believed his own
word would be taken quicker than Black’s. Knowing that he had done
no wrong, and that he intended to do none, he saw no way in which
his rebellious assistant could do him an injury. So, as soon as he
could, he dismissed the matter from his mind.
But on account of the excitement accompanying his little encounter
with Black, it was not altogether easy to forget the matter. When
Henry remembered that Black had been asleep at the key, and that
some one might have been trying to talk to the _Iroquois_, he drew
on the headphones and for a space sat listening. Then he threw over
his switch, flashed out a general call, and asked if any one had
been calling the _Iroquois_. When, after listening and repeating the
message, there came no response, he felt relieved. He sat back in
his chair, satisfied that all was right.
After breakfast Belford came on duty, according to agreement. He
expressed his surprise at finding Henry in the wireless shack. Henry
told him what had happened. Young Belford frowned deeply.
“Be careful, Harper,” he said. “I never trusted Black. He might try
to do you some harm.”
“I don’t see how he could,” said Henry. “There are too many people
about.”
“Just the same I wouldn’t spend too much time out on deck after
dark. There’s seldom any one out there except the watch forward.”
“I’m sorry it happened,” remarked Henry. “I hate to tell on him.”
“But you must,” urged Belford. “If you don’t, he’ll think he has
scared you out of it. Then he’ll be worse than ever. And he ought to
be punished, if only to make him more careful in future. You can’t
tell what might happen if the wireless watch goes to sleep.”
“I shall report him, of course, but, none the less, I dislike to do
it. It almost makes me feel like the spy he said I was.”
“Don’t feel that way. What you are doing you are doing for the
safety of the ship.”
Henry surrendered the watch to Belford and went straight to the
captain’s cabin. “Come in,” said the captain, when Henry knocked.
“Good-morning, Captain Hardwick,” said Henry, as he entered the
cabin. “I have come to you on a disagreeable business. I have to
report young Black for carelessness about his work.”
The captain looked at Henry keenly. “Have you boys been quarreling?”
he asked.
“I was afraid you’d think that was about the size of it,” responded
Henry, “and I was very reluctant to bother you with the matter at
all. But I thought I really owed it to you, Captain Hardwick. I
could not sleep after the excitement last night, and I dressed and
went to the wireless room. Black was on duty, and I found him fast
asleep.”
The captain’s face grew dark as a thundercloud. “Asleep at the
wireless key!” he said. “It was indeed your duty to report the
matter to me. I’ll break that fellow quick. We’ll have him before a
court-martial and clap him in the brig, and he’ll be dishonorably
discharged the minute we reach shore.”
“Please don’t do that, Captain Hardwick. I should hate to think I
had made a fellow lose his job. Maybe he’ll do better in future.
Won’t you let him off with a reprimand or some slight punishment?”
The captain looked at Henry searchingly. “I can’t exactly understand
you,” he said. “You report a man for wrong-doing and then don’t want
him punished. Can you explain that?”
“Why, sir, he ought to be reported. That’s plain enough. Maybe he
ought to be punished, too. But if he is punished, it will look as
though I was simply trying to get even with him. I wouldn’t want
anybody, even Black, to think I was so small as that.”
“Get even with him!” cried the captain. “Then you did have a
quarrel. I can’t seem to get head or tail of this business.”
“It was like this, Captain,” said Henry, seeing now that he could no
longer keep anything back. “I found Black asleep. I told him I would
report him to you. We had some words. But please don’t think I’m
reporting Black because I’m sore at him, or anything like that.”
“I begin to understand,” nodded the captain. “Is there any one else
who knows about this affair?”
“No one was present, sir, but Belford knows about it.”
“Send him to me,” said the commander.
Henry relieved his fellow-operator at the key, and Belford went
direct to the cabin. He told the captain all he knew about the
affair.
“I think I understand now,” said the commander. “Harper told Black
he would report him, and Black called him a spy. That went hard with
Henry. He couldn’t help feeling he was a sort of spy, even though he
was doing his plain duty.”
“And don’t forget, sir, that Black threatened to fix Henry if he
reported him,” said Belford.
The commander of the _Iroquois_ turned the situation over in his
mind. “Jimmy,” he said, “was there any good reason why Black should
have fallen asleep? Was he worn out, as some of the rest of the crew
were, by their long efforts?”
“He was the freshest man on the boat,” said Belford, with feeling.
“He never left our cabin the whole time we were trying to save our
men, and most of the time I think he was in bed.”
“Why?” demanded the captain, astonished.
Jimmy hesitated. “I think, sir, he’s yellow.”
“Send him to me,” thundered the captain.
Just what occurred during that interview nobody but the captain and
the delinquent operator ever knew. But young Black came out on deck
at last, looking both frightened and very vengeful, and the captain
announced that Black had been restricted for twenty days. If the
third-class radio man realized how near he had been to a general
court-martial, he gave no sign of knowing, and showed no gratitude
for the pleas that had in all probability saved him.
The run to Boston continued without incident. Slowly but steadily
the _Iroquois_ proceeded with her tow. The wind fell steadily, and
the sea grew calmer. The journey up the tortuous channel was made
without mishap. The _Capitol City_ was safely berthed where she
could be repaired, and the _Iroquois_ continued to the Navy Yard,
and secured some small boats to replace those she had lost
overboard. Then the little cutter once more headed down the harbor
and out to the open sea.
The passage back was indeed an eventful one to Henry. Had it not
been for the terrible events he had so recently witnessed, events
which he could not forget, the journey would have been joyful in the
extreme. The weather was excellent. Bright and clear shone the sun:
the sea, becoming ever calmer, flashed and sparkled brilliantly; the
air had a tonic quality. Overhead, white, fleecy clouds floated in
an azure sky.
Porpoises appeared. In shoals they played about in the sea. Like so
many hurdlers, they drove forward in groups, first one and then
another, lunging above the waves as though to leap over some unseen
marine obstacle. Henry had never before seen porpoises. It delighted
him to watch them. And when he found that a shoal of them was
swimming immediately in front of the ship’s prow, he leaned over the
forward rail with the sailors, and watched them. In particular he
was interested in two of the great, lumbering bodies that swam side
by side immediately before the cutwater. Their tails almost touched
the prow. They looked as though they were towing the ship, as
apparently, without effort, they kept pace with it. But when a
sailor hit one of them with a clinker, frightening them, the great
fish showed that they were anything but lumbering. They darted away
from the Iroquois as though that ship were tied to a post, instead
of traveling fourteen or fifteen miles an hour. Henry wondered how
fast porpoises could swim. He thought that they must be going at
least twice as fast as the cutter. He remembered that he had read of
the enormous speed of those curious denizens of the deep, the
barracuda and the sailfish, which travel sixty or even seventy miles
an hour.
But if the porpoises interested Henry, the next fishes he saw held
him almost speechless, for off the Nantucket shoals the _Iroquois_
came upon several whales. With the glasses Henry could make them out
plainly. Enormous bulks they were, and at times they spouted columns
of water aloft, which was quickly blown into misty spray by the
breeze. Henry had read of whales spouting, but he had never expected
to see one of them doing it.
Close to the Ambrose Lightship the _Iroquois_ passed as she was
heading into the channel for New York. On the lightship’s flaming
red side was painted in huge letters the word “Ambrose.” Instead of
topmasts she carried, on her mastheads, round red globes for lights
at night. Henry marveled at the sturdiness of these little ships
that lie at anchor month after month, riding out the most terrific
storms, and guiding the sailor on his way.
As the _Iroquois_ sailed past the lightship, the colors of the
latter slowly fluttered down from aloft, then rose again. Henry had
not previously seen one ship salute another by dipping her colors.
He noticed the flag fluttering down, but did not catch the
significance of it until the quartermaster called to a sailor to run
aft and dip the _Iroquois’_ flag. A moment later the cutter’s ensign
came fluttering down, then was run aloft again.
As the _Iroquois_ drew near to New York there was an abundance of
work for Henry to do. He had to be in the wireless house much of the
time. The ship had to report her position at regular intervals.
There were orders to be taken and messages to be sent. Henry felt
that his days as an operator were passing fast. When Mr. Sharp
rejoined the boat in New York, he would of course be relieved from
duty. He wanted to learn all he could about the work of a wireless
man on shipboard, so hour after hour he sat in the wireless shack,
sometimes alone at his own watch and sometimes with his associates.
What was his great joy, on one of these long watches, to hear in the
frosty air the crackling signal “WNA—WNA—WNA—de—WNG.” Well did
Henry know that call. Often had he flashed it out himself. It was
the call of the _Lycoming_, and her sister ship, the _Tioga_, was
calling her. The _Lycoming_ must be nearing port. Roy would be at
her key. He would be in New York when Henry got there, perhaps, or
at any rate he would reach there a few hours later. Henry felt that
his troubles were over. Roy would help him out, and maybe could find
him a permanent job. At any rate, Roy had repeatedly asked Henry to
make the trip to Galveston and back as his guest. He would make the
trip now. The immediate future was provided for. With his heart
beating with happiness, Henry listened to the exchange of
communications between the _Tioga_ and the _Lycoming_, then threw
over his switch and rapped out the call, “WNA—WNA—WNA—de—NTE.”
Promptly came the crackling reply, “NTE—NTE—NTE—de—WNA—K.”
How well Henry recognized the swift, sure, even sending. Nobody else
in the world handled a wireless key just like Roy.
“This is Henry Harper,” flashed back Henry. “I am on the Coast Guard
cutter _Iroquois_. We are heading for New York. Expect to arrive
after dark tonight. Where can I see you?”
“We dock about sunset,” came the reply. “Come to the _Lycoming_.
Will wait for you.”
Happy indeed was Henry. A few hours would see him with his old
friend. His troubles would be over. Poor Henry! If only he could
have foreseen what the night would bring forth, his smile would have
vanished quickly. But he could not foresee, and gleefully he
continued with his tasks.
As the ship came nearer and nearer to her harbor, Henry had more and
more to do. The captain kept him busy at the wireless. Among other
messages, Henry sent one about the men who had been swept ashore,
and who were now in New York. They were to be at the Staten Island
landing and come aboard the moment the _Iroquois_ dropped anchor.
Supper time came. Henry had been eating with the crew, since he
became an operator. Now the captain asked him to take this last meal
on board with him in the cabin. It was a joyous meal for the lad. He
told the captain about his friend Roy and the good times they had
had at home, and about his coming meeting with him.
After supper, as they sailed up the channel in the dark, Henry
started for the radio house again to relieve Belford. He passed the
surgeon, who was hurrying forward with his medicine case.
“What is the trouble, Doctor?” asked Henry.
“One of the sailors mashed a finger while doing something to the
anchor-chain,” replied the surgeon, hurrying on.
Henry entered the radio shack and relieved Belford. The
quartermaster called the latter up to the chart-room. Henry adjusted
the headphones and almost immediately caught the call of the
_Iroquois_. They were almost at their anchorage, and the call came
with startling distinctness. Henry threw open his switch and flashed
an acknowledgment of the call. The commandant of the New York
district of the Coast Guard was sending a message for Captain
Hardwick. Henry wrote it down, copied it neatly on a telegraph
blank, and climbed up the ladder through the darkness to the bridge.
The ship’s bell was musically striking the hour. It was seven
o’clock. Henry thought he should miss that musical bell after he got
ashore. Captain Hardwick stepped into the chart-room, read the
message, and wrote a reply. Henry hurried back to his post. He had
not been gone five minutes, yet he took the precaution to listen in
for a little time. No one was calling him. He spread the telegraph
blank on his desk, read the captain’s message, and made ready to
send it. He threw over his switch, put his fingers on his key, and
started to call headquarters. A few tiny sparks leaped across his
gap. Then his key went dead. Aghast, he dropped his phones and began
to examine his instruments. But he could see nothing wrong.
Everything looked as it had always looked. Again Henry tried his
key. There was no response. His face went white. Apparently the
costly wireless outfit was ruined. It must have been burned out, and
apparently Henry himself was to blame.