HENRY’S EXONERATION
With such a line of evidence against Black, the outcome of the
court-martial that quickly followed was a certainty. Black was
convicted, dishonorably discharged from the Coast Guard service,
sentenced to serve a prison term, and thrust into the brig, after
being stripped of his uniform.
Quite as naturally Henry was appointed to fill his place. The
appointment, however, could not become really effective until Henry
should receive his mother’s permission to enlist. He had no doubt
her consent would be forthcoming. He had already written to obtain
it, and was expecting a reply soon. Everybody on board seemed
genuinely glad when Henry was completely exonerated, and nobody was
more pleased than Captain Hardwick. He had come to like the lad
immensely.
“Henry,” he said, “I never had more satisfaction in appointing any
one to a position under my command than I have in appointing you. If
you continue to be as faithful as you have been so far, there won’t
be any question, when your probationary three months are up, about
your confirmation as a permanent member of my wireless staff. With
Mr. Sharp and Mr. Belford and you, I shall have one of the best
wireless staffs in the service.”
Nor was Mr. Sharp or Belford one whit less pleased with the change
in the wireless staff. Neither of them had ever liked the
third-class radio man. When Mr. Sharp shook Henry’s hand in
congratulation, Henry said, “Mr. Sharp, I want you to teach me
everything there is to know about wireless.”
The chief electrician laughed. “I can’t do that, Henry,” he smiled.
“I don’t know everything myself. But I’ll be glad to teach you all I
do know. With two such students as you and Jimmy, I’ll have to
hustle to keep ahead of you.”
Even the weather seemed to rejoice with Henry, for the clouds
disappeared, the sun came out clear, and the day following the
rescue of the _Rayolite_ was one of rare beauty. The _Iroquois_ was
able to quicken her speed and bring her tow into New York Harbor
before darkness again fell.
As the cutter steamed up the channel, Henry got into touch with Roy
and flashed him the joyful news that the mystery of the field coil
had been solved, and that he himself had been exonerated and
permanently appointed third member of the radio staff.
There were more good things in store for Henry. Next day the mail
boy brought him two letters. One was from Willie, regretting his
unforeseen absence from New York and announcing his speedy return;
and the other was from Henry’s mother, giving her consent to his
enlistment as a Coast Guard wireless man.
Henry took his mother’s letter to Captain Hardwick. The captain
smiled with satisfaction as he read it. “That settles the matter for
sure,” he said. “This communication makes your appointment
effective, and you are now a regularly appointed member of my staff.
My congratulations, Sparks!”
Henry took the proffered hand. “It will be a great day for me,
Captain,” he said, “when I am a real Sparks like Mr. Sharp. I intend
to be. I’m going to study hard and climb up.”
“Your appointment is a probationary one, you understand,” said the
commander. “But I haven’t the least doubt that at the end of three
months I shall be able to confirm it.”
“I’ll do all I possibly can to deserve such confirmation,” said
Henry stoutly. “We wireless men want to help you all we can,
Captain.”
“I wish you could help me catch some dope smugglers that have been
bothering the custom officials here for a long time,” sighed the
captain. “But I don’t know how you could do it. These fellows have
been bringing opium into this port for months from Central America,
and we can’t touch them. Yet we are absolutely certain they are
doing it. I just got another letter this morning from the commandant
of this district, urging me to increase my vigilance.”
“Who are the fellows that bring in the opium, and how do they do
it?” asked Henry.
“The most notorious outfit is the steamer _Orient_, that plies
between New York and Panama.”
“How do you know she brings in opium?” asked Henry.
“Well, we don’t really know it. We know the stuff gets in, and we
know it comes from Panama by ship. The captain of the _Orient_ has a
shady reputation and associates with men known to be dope handlers.
He never loses any of his crew, and that is suspicious in itself.”
“I don’t understand,” said Henry.
“Oh, sailors go from boat to boat. They are a roving lot, and it is
seldom that a ship’s master can keep the same crew any length of
time. But there’s something so attractive about service on the
_Orient_ that men seldom leave her. It isn’t because of the high
tone of life aboard, either, for they’re a rummy lot on that ship.
We figure they are all in on the opium business, and that the
captain lets them share in the profits. That’s the only explanation
we can see for the situation.”
“Why don’t you stop the _Orient_ before she gets into the harbor and
search her?” asked Henry.
“We would do that, but her master is foxy. He has a habit of
appearing in the harbor hours before he is expected. He’s here
before we know he’s anywhere near New York. There’s no use searching
him after he’s in the harbor, for he probably passes his stuff out
to fishermen or boatmen before he reaches the Narrows. Likely he
drops it overboard, with buoys to mark it, so his confederates can
go out in small boats and pick it up. We figure he must do it this
way, for the custom guards have watched his ship at her pier as a
cat watches a mouse-hole, and they can never get a thing that is
suspicious.”
“Why don’t you get a compass bearing on the _Orient_ while she is at
sea?” asked Henry. “Then you could steam out and intercept her.”
“Sounds easy, but she won’t answer radio calls. That’s another
suspicious thing about her. When she does give her position, as she
sometimes does to her owners, we have found that she almost always
gives a false one. She’s nearer port by a good deal than she says
she is. We’ve tried lots of times to intercept her, and that’s the
way she fools us. If we had nothing else to do but catch the
_Orient_, of course we’d get her. But you’ve seen enough in your
brief stay aboard the _Iroquois_ to know that the Coast Guard is a
pretty busy organization. We don’t have the time necessary to devote
to a little matter like this. Yet this smuggling ought to be
stopped.”
Henry was all afire with the problem of helping his captain catch
the crooked commander of the _Orient_. He could think of nothing
else all that day. Finally an idea popped into his head. “Captain
Hardwick,” he said, as soon as he could find the commander,
“wouldn’t the Navy Yard wireless help us out?”
“Help us out? What do you mean?”
“Why, to catch the _Orient_, to be sure.”
The commander laughed. “Are you still thinking about that?” he said.
“Of course I’m thinking about it. You said you wanted help.”
“Well, bless my stars!” cried the commander. “Let’s hear all about
it. How is the Navy Yard wireless to help us catch the _Orient_?” He
was laughing good-naturedly, but he began to look interested as
Henry unfolded his plan.
“Why couldn’t the Navy Yard sound the _Orient’s_ call and keep on
sending at intervals, whether she answered or not?”
“Doubtless the Navy Yard could, but what good would it do?”
“Why, sooner or later curiosity would get the better of the
_Orient’s_ operator and he’d answer.”
“By George! He might. And what then?”
“Ask him some question that he would be likely to answer.”
“What, for instance?”
“Well, if you asked if the _Orient_ had seen anything of some
long-overdue steamer that sails the same waters the _Orient_ does,
wouldn’t he answer that? There is certainly nothing in such a
request that would arouse suspicion.”
“That might work,” said the captain thoughtfully. “It’s a thing
that’s often done. And the Navy Yard could call other boats far away
from the _Orient_ and ask the same question. That would make it even
less suspicious. Yes, I believe that would work. The question is,
‘Are there any boats that sail to southern waters that are now
overdue?’” The captain paused in thought. “I believe there are two,”
he continued. “If we got the _Orient_, we could ask her position. It
wouldn’t matter whether she gave it correctly or not. It would keep
her wireless going and give us more time to get a good compass
bearing. I believe we’ll try it.”
The captain got into his launch and went ashore. He was gone a long
time. When he returned, he called Henry to his cabin. “We’re going
to try your plan,” he said. “The Navy will call the _Orient_, and,
if an answer is received, will get a compass bearing and let us know
where the ship is and when she will arrive at Ambrose Lightship. We
can meet her and search her. You will likely hear the Navy Yard call
the _Orient_ if you keep your ears open.”
Henry informed his fellow-watchers in the radio shack as to what was
afoot, and an element of interest was added to their watches. Also
he asked Mr. Sharp if he might try for a compass bearing himself, in
case the _Orient_ was heard. “I’ve already used a radio compass,”
said Henry. “They had one at Frankfort, but that was a long time
ago, and that instrument would now be considered antiquated.” The
chief radio man was pleased to have so eager a pupil, and instructed
Henry in all the principles of the latest radio compass, such as the
one on the _Iroquois_.
By good luck Henry himself was on duty and caught the very first
call for the _Orient_. “WND—de—NAH,” signaled the operator at the
Navy Yard.
But there was no reply. Again and again the watchers on the
_Iroquois_ heard the call of the _Orient_ flung out by the operator
in the Navy Yard. Finally the ruse succeeded. The _Orient’s_
operator could stand it no longer. He answered the call. When he
did, Henry flew to the compass shack, while Belford kept the watch.
Again and again, as the Navy men talked to the _Orient_, Henry
revolved his compass until he was certain he had the ship’s
position, which he plotted on the map in the radio room. The
_Orient_ had also given her position. This time Henry saw she had
told the truth. The position she gave agreed with that which he had
caught on the radio compass. Evidently she didn’t care to play
crooked with the Navy Yard. Eagerly Henry waited to see what the
Navy Yard operator would report. His report, of course, would have
to come by telephone. It would never have done to send it by
wireless, lest the _Orient_ might hear as well as the _Iroquois_.
The captain sent Lieutenant Hill ashore to receive this telephone
communication. When, finally, Henry learned what the Navy Yard
operator had to report, he found that his own compass bearing agreed
almost exactly with it. He was delighted that he had been so
accurate.
According to the calculations from the Navy Yard, the _Orient_ could
not possibly arrive at the Ambrose Lightship before daybreak, but
Captain Hardwick was not willing to take any chances with a man he
knew to be as slippery as the commander of the _Orient_. Accordingly
he got the custom inspectors who were to accompany him, dropped down
the Bay during the night, and lay at anchor near the lightship,
waiting for the opium carrier.
Daybreak found the _Orient_, true to her reckoning, approaching the
_Iroquois_. The latter signaled to her to stop. Promptly the
_Orient_ hove to, and Captain Hardwick sent two small boats,
containing the half dozen custom inspectors and a dozen of his own
crew, to search the southern freighter from stem to stern.
The commander of the _Orient_ was plainly taken aback. Before he
fully realized what was happening, the boarding parties from the
_Iroquois_ were swarming up the _Orient’s_ ladder. Like oil on
water, they spread to all parts of the ship, before the crew could
make a move to conceal anything. Captain Hardwick knew what he was
about when he sent twice as many of his tars aboard as there were
custom inspectors. The able seamen made a dive for the forecastle
and began a systematic search of the sailors’ living quarters. Some
of the custom inspectors sealed up the cargo holds, so these could
be inspected leisurely at the dock later on, while others were
examining the quarters aft. It was soon evident that the search
would require much time, so the workers settled down with grim
persistence, while the crew of the _Orient_ passed jokes at their
expense and went as far as they dared in taunting the unsuccessful
searchers.
On the _Iroquois_, meanwhile, time passed slowly. There was nothing
for the sailors to do but sit about and wait for the return of their
comrades. In the radio house both Belford and Harper were trying to
possess themselves in patience. They sat with their feet up on the
desk, talking, with the wireless coupled up to the loud speaker.
Whenever a message sounded, they paused in their talk to listen.
“Just hear that. You might think it came from next door,” said
Henry, as a sudden signal fairly burst from the loud speaker. “Only
that isn’t the _Orient’s_ call.”
OIN was calling RET. “They’re queer calls,” commented Belford. “I
never heard either before.”
RET answered OIN almost immediately, and in another instant the
message was booming in the loud speaker. Belford copied it as it
came. “No fish today. Held up by sharks. All safe aloft.”
“Well, that’s a queer message,” said Henry. “Some fishermen with a
wireless outfit, I suppose, telling a customer he has nothing for
him. Probably been out in a gale, and escaped damage to his
top-hamper. I can’t understand about the sharks, though. They might
scare away the fish, but I don’t see how they could hold up a boat.”
They resumed their conversation. Time passed. After some hours one
of the small boats returned from the _Orient_, with some of the
sailors. The remainder, and the custom officials, were still aboard.
It had been decided to proceed to New York without further loss of
time. The search would continue during the run, and the sealed cargo
holds could be examined at the pier.
Slowly the _Orient_ got under way and headed for the harbor,
convoyed by the _Iroquois_. When they were halfway up the channel,
the two lads in the radio shack paused again to listen to another
message from the loud speaker. RET was calling OIN, and the signal
sounded weak and far away, but when OIN replied, the signals fairly
screeched from the loud speaker.
“By George!” cried Henry. “That OIN must be mighty close at hand.
The call could hardly be louder if it came from the _Orient_ here.
I’m curious to know where it does come from.”
When RET began sending, Belford again wrote down the message. “Put
fish in trap when leaving port. Glad top-hamper safe.”
“Jiminy crickets!” said Belford. “That’s a funny one. OIN says he
has no fish for RET, and RET turns around and tells him to put the
fish in the trap when he leaves port. That doesn’t sound sensible to
me.”
He shoved the scraps of paper bearing the messages over to Henry.
Jimmy had written the messages close together, like this:
RET de OIN: “No fish today.
Held up by sharks. All safe aloft.”
OIN de RET: “Put fish in trap when
leaving port. Glad top-hamper
safe.”
Henry looked at the sheet of paper lazily for a moment. Then he
almost sprang out of his chair. “Look, Jimmy!” he cried. “See how
the letters of those two calls combine.” He pointed to the signals
his companion had written down at the commencement of each line. “If
you begin with O, then jump up to R, and keep on moving from bottom
line to top, you get the word ‘Orient.’ I believe we’ve caught
something important.”
Belford pulled the paper toward himself and studied the riddle.
“Jiminy crickets!” he cried. “You’re right, Henry. What do you
suppose it all means? I thought from the first that there was
something queer about those calls.”
“Well,” replied Henry, “it is perfectly evident that OIN must be
mighty close at hand, the way her signal comes cracking in. That’s
just the way a signal would sound from the _Orient_. And RET is
either very far away, or else has a weak little set. Inasmuch as we
are going into port and the message seems to be to a customer, I’d
guess that the customer has a weak little outfit—probably a
home-made affair run by dry cells. But what all this stuff about
fish and sharks means, I can’t guess.”
“Do you suppose we ought to bother the captain with it?”
“It won’t do any harm. If this message was from the _Orient_, it has
some hidden meaning, and of course the captain ought to know about
it.”
“Suppose you take it to him, Henry.”
Henry grabbed up the sheet of paper and went to the captain. “Bless
my stars!” ejaculated the captain, when he had read the two
messages. “This is as good as a Sunday newspaper puzzle. And it’s
about as easy to guess. Fish would mean opium, of course; and if
sharks are the things that held back the opium, I reckon either we
or the custom men are the sharks. Maybe they meant Sparks, eh?” And
the captain laughed merrily at Henry.
“Maybe Sparks will stop them, after all,” grinned Henry.
“Let’s turn it into plain English,” continued the captain. “‘We
cannot deliver any opium to you today because the custom officials
have grabbed us. Everything is safe aloft.’ Now why should he tell
his customer that his rigging is still all right? What has that to
do with it?”
“I don’t know, Captain, unless it has something to do with the
opium.”
“By George!” cried the commander. “Let’s put it that way. We’ll read
the message all over again. ‘We cannot deliver you any opium today
because the custom officials have grabbed us. But the stuff is safe
aloft.’”
“Do you suppose it means that?” cried Henry, much excited.
“You can guess as well as I can. Now let’s go on with this thing.
What does the answer say? Let’s see.” The captain bent over the
paper again and read, “‘Put fish in trap when leaving port. Glad
top-hamper is safe.’” He paused and chuckled. “Plain as day, isn’t
it, Henry? ‘Put your opium in the trap when you leave the harbor.
We’re glad your opium is safe.’ If we haven’t guessed their little
riddle, I’ll eat my hat. Come on, we’ll see whether we are right or
not.”
The commander went on deck. Jimmy flashed an order for the _Orient_
to heave to again. A small boat was lowered and in a few moments the
commander of the cutter stood on the deck of the freighter. The
searchers looked grim. The _Orient’s_ crew were grinning.
“What success?” asked the captain.
“None,” said the leader of the custom officials.
Captain Hardwick removed his cap and began to scan the top-hamper of
the _Orient_. He saw that the forward crow’s-nest was unusually
large and commodious. He called two of his sailors. “Boys,” he
cried, “skip up the rigging and take a look in those crow’s-nests.
Make sure there are no false bottoms in them.”
The crew of the _Orient_ lost their grins, as the sailors from the
cutter hustled up the rigging. “Nothing here,” called down the
sailor who had mounted to the after crow’s-nest. The man on the
forward mast did not answer so promptly. He was measuring with eye
and arm the inner and outer dimensions of the big crow’s-nest.
Suddenly his eye caught sight of a nail, bent like a hook, that
projected above the flooring at one edge of the crow’s-nest. He
crooked a finger under it and pulled. The whole floor came up.
Beneath it, packed tightly together, were enough cans of opium to
fill several suit-cases.
“The stuff is here, Captain,” called the sailor.