Jupe’s summons to supper ended the talk for the time being, and the two
lads went below to eat a hearty meal while the colored man took a spell
at the wheel. After supper they emerged on deck again, and as Jack took
the helm Tom drew up a camp stool beside him, and seating himself,
spread the figure-covered sheet of paper out on the chart case. He then
switched on the shaded light, which caused a soft glow to reveal the
cabalistic scribbling clearly.
“Now then,” he began, “in figuring out a cipher of this sort the first
thing to do is to note what figure appears most frequently. Having
ascertained this, it is safe to assume that such a figure stands for the
most frequently occurring letter in the language,—always provided, of
course, the message is in English.”
“Well?” interrogated Jack.
“We know that the most frequently used vowel in English is _E_. And, by
the way, this translation proved fairly easy, because the transmitter of
the message made a gap between each of his groups of figures, showing
that each collection stood for a separate word.”
“I noticed that,—go ahead.”
“I was trying to show you something of the method; but I guess you’ve
about grasped it. In figuring out the cipher I made groups of all the
numerals occurring in your transcript of the message, and found that the
number ‘five’ appeared most often. I assumed, then, that it stood for H.
Working in this way, I found that the first word of the message was
_The_. That _Th_ stuck for some time, till I saw that the figures
‘twenty-five’ had been used to express the phonetic sound of _Th_.
“This gave me a valuable clew. I wrote down _The_ and then passed on to
the next words. Figuring as before, I assigned the number ‘three,’ which
appeared alone, to the letter _C_. I was puzzled for a minute. ‘_The C_’
didn’t seem to mean a whole lot, but I let it go and passed on to the
next word. Using my system I spelled out _King_, and then, of course, I
realized that the _C_ was a phonetic rendering for the first part of the
yacht _Sea King’s_ name.”
“Great guns!” gasped Jack, “then they are interested in dad’s craft
and——”
“Wait a while; let me get the rest of it off my chest. I’m not going to
tire your patience out by going through every step. I’ve told you enough
to show you my method. As I got further combinations it became more and
more simple till I finally had this message figured out:
“‘The _Sea King_ is disabled. Trying to get bearings from you know who.
_Vagrant_ left Lone Island this P. M. going to rescue. You had better
make all speed or they will beat you out. Am proceeding. X. Y. Z.’”
Jack’s lips emitted an amazed whistle.
“What sort of a maze have we blundered into?” he exclaimed. “This X. Y.
Z., who is he? Who was he talking to? What are they after?”
“All of which questions will be answered by the time we arrive at the
scene of the wreck, I imagine,” quoth Tom with a dry intonation; “in the
meantime, it looks as if we are ‘it’ in this marine game of blind-man’s
buff.”
“That’s the name for it, all right,” assented Jack, peering at his
compass card. “Tom, old lad, I’ve a presentiment that we are going to
blunder into something that will call for every bit of ingenuity and
courage we possess.”
“And in the meantime,” said Tom, “it’s up to me to keep that motor
turning over as she never turned before.”
“Um,—well, beyond knowing that X. Y. Z. is a dangerous factor, or
seemingly so,” mused Jack, “we are about as far off as ever from knowing
just where he fits into the problem.”
The night wore on, and still the _Vagrant_ churned her way steadily
across the dark waters of the gulf under the brilliant white stars of
the southern sky. The phosphorescence slid by her in fiery green streaks
as she cut her way along, and from time to time Tom emerged from below
and “spelled” his cousin, and comrade, at the wheel. At ten o’clock Jupe
served coffee and biscuits on the bridge, and shortly thereafter Jack
had another try with the wireless. But space, as before, was mute as the
Sphinx. From out of the darkness came no whisper as to the nature of the
enigma into which the situation, evolved by that first message from the
air, had developed itself.
Eleven o’clock came, and both boys commenced to strain their eyes into
the velvety blackness ahead.
“We ought to be picking something up before long,” observed Jack,
“unless—unless——”
His voice shook a bit. Between this lad and his father there was a deep
bond of affection. Their close association had riveted the lad’s love
for his parent even more strongly than is the case with most boys. As
they neared the location where the yacht ought to be discovered, a
feeling of painful suspense clutched coldly at his heart. Nor was Tom’s
agitation much less. But the younger lad was more accustomed to suppress
his feelings than Jack. He stood by his cousin’s side with tightly
closed lips, as the _Vagrant_ throbbed onward, but through his brain,
like fires in a blast furnace, a constant succession of anxious thoughts
flashed and agitated.
“Unless what. Jack?” said Tom at length.
“Unless—gracious, Tom, suppose—suppose that the _Sea King_ has——”
There was no need for him to conclude the sentence. Tom knew well enough
what the other dreaded. The ominous silence after that first message,
the lack of any signals from the disabled craft whose vicinity they must
be close to now if she were still afloat—all these things induced a
gloomy presentiment of evil which Tom, no more than Jack, was able to
shake off.
“It isn’t possible that she has proceeded?” mused Tom.
“Not likely. As I understood that message the location was given us so
that we could make direct for her. If she had been capable of proceeding
under her own steam, surely she would have made for Lone Island.”
“If only we knew something of the object of Uncle Chester’s mission, we
might form a clearer idea of what has happened out here,” ventured Tom.
“One thing is certain, the _Sea King_ hasn’t struck a rock——”
Jack laughed mirthlessly.
“There isn’t a reef or a shoal within a hundred miles of her bearings,
as given to us,” he said; “that’s what makes the whole thing such a
baffling puzzle. Her boilers and machinery were new. I don’t see what
can have happened to them, and surely if the accident had been of that
nature, the despatch would have said so. It’s just the vagueness of the
whole thing that worries me.”
“Complicated by Mister X. Y. Z., whoever he may be,” supplemented Tom.
“Do you know, Jack, I’ve got a hunch that we, are destined to see that
individual before very long?”
A sudden yell from Jupe, who was at the bow keeping a keen lookout
according to instructions, cut the night.
“Marse Jack! Marse Tom! Look! Look dere, yondah!”
There was no need for Jupe to explain himself. Dead ahead, and directly
on the _Vagrant’s_ course, a bright streamer of flame slashed the sky
like a scimitar of fire.
“A rocket!” exploded Jack.
As he uttered the exclamation the skyward end of the flaming ribbon
burst into a diadem of brilliant scarlet stars.
“Here, take the wheel,” choked out Jack, seizing Tom by the shoulder and
shoving him into the helmsman’s place.
With nimble fingers he unlaced the canvas covering of the _Vagrant’s_
searchlight, snapped the switch on with a tiny sputter of green sparks.
and the next instant a pencil of white light was sweeping the darkness
ahead.
Back and forth it swept and suddenly steadied. As it did so the boys
uttered a simultaneous exclamation of amazement. Into the field of light
had suddenly swung, not the expected outlines of the _Sea King_, but the
form of a low craft without masts or funnels, rushing, at what appeared
to be terrific speed, toward the northeast.