"Donneer! Donner!"
At the mention of that startling word, Tom Barnes was instantly
convinced that he had made a great discovery; in fact, he was satisfied
that he had at last discovered one of the "spooks" of Station Z.
Donner had been a mystery. The owner of the satchel was quite mysterious
in appearance. As Tom tried to help him to his feet, he noticed that the
man wore a wig and enormous whiskers. They were false, for the fall had
sent them quite awry.
"Donner," Tom had learned, was quite a common word in Germany. It was
equivalent to our own "Thunder!" Tom, however, had never heard the word
used outside of his wireless experience. To hear it used now by a
suspicious individual in the very city where Harry Ashley was supposed
to be, suggested strangely to Tom that the odd individual before him
might be the erratic amateur operator, who had been sending out messages
referring to a runaway boy, one Ernest Warren, with "sun, moon and stars
tattooed on his left shoulder."
"Are you hurt, sir?" inquired Tom.
The man who had so narrowly escaped destruction seemed to be more
frightened than grateful. He hurriedly adjusted his facial disguise and
looked about him to see if he was especially observed. Then he shouted
hoarsely, with a despairing look at the scattered contents of the
satchel:
"My baggage--quick, get it!"
Tom hurriedly collected the articles. He was amazed at their oddness and
variety. There were one or two articles of clothing, and besides these,
two old-fashioned horse pistols, an ancient dirk, four or five wigs, and
as many false beards and moustaches. The odd collection suggested an
actor with a limited stage outfit.
The minute Tom handed the satchel to the man with its contents restored,
the latter made a wild dash down the street. Tom was bound that he would
not lose sight of him, and followed fast on his heels.
He came upon the fugitive posted in a doorway and anxiously gazing
beyond its shadows along the street. Tom paused near to him.
"Can I be of any use to you, sir?" he asked, eager to keep up an
acquaintance he felt sure would lead to some definite results.
"Is anyone following me or watching me?" inquired the man breathlessly.
"Not at all," responded Tom reassuringly. "Everybody is running to the
fire."
"Ah, that is good, most good!" exclaimed the man in a relieved tone.
"The troubles--all at once. I am all turned around. You are a good
honest boy," he added, scanning Tom critically. "You would not bring
troubles to a poor old man?"
"Not I," declared Tom.
"You would help him?"
"I would be glad to," said Tom, delighted at getting more closely into
the confidence of his companion.
"Then you shall earn a dollar. See, I am a stranger in the city. You
must direct me--to that address."
The speaker fumbled in a pocket and produced a card which he handed to
Tom. It bore an address, and below it the words: "Go to section 4. Wait
for Brady."
"What luck!" breathed Tom ardently. "This man is certainly the
mysterious operator, and he is going to see one of the men who kidnapped
Harry Ashley."
It took about twenty minutes to reach the address indicated on the card.
Tom pointed out the restaurant to his companion, who gave him a dollar
bill. Then with a brusque nod and a searching glance all about him, he
entered the restaurant.
Tom crossed the street and reached a sheltering doorway. His eyes were
fixed on the restaurant. What should he do next? He had almost decided
to recross the street, enter the place and attempt to get nearer to the
object of his interest, when a man came around the corner.
"It's Brady--it is the man I saw at Rockley Cove," declared Tom.
Brady wore a hat pulled well down over his face. His manner was hurried
and furtive, like that of a person suspicious of every passer-by. He
bolted quickly into the restaurant.
"I must do something now--something worth while," breathed Tom
hurriedly. "There can be no doubt in the world that those two men have
met here to do something about Harry. They may go away by some other
exit. I'll do it."
These last words announced a definite decision on the part of Tom, as
his eye fell upon a policeman in uniform standing at the nearest street
corner. Tom approached him, full of his plan.
"Officer," he said politely, "do you ever arrest a person without a
warrant?"
"I'd arrest me own brother on suspicions if he deserved it," announced
the man in uniform bluntly.
"I am in trouble," said Tom rapidly, "and I wish you would help me."
"Spake out, me lad," directed the big bustling officer.
"A friend of mine, a boy, has been kidnapped. One of the men who carried
him away is in that restaurant yonder. If you will only take him and the
man with him to the police station, I am sure I can convince you that
they both deserve arrest."
Tom briefly narrated the story of the kidnapping.
"Come on, me lad," ordered the policeman. "It's a case for the captain.
Sure I'll take them in the act. This'll get in the newspapers, and
Officer Lahey's name along with it. Show me the rascals, me young
friend, and I'll do the rest."
Tom entered the restaurant, the officer following him. At one side of
the place there were half a dozen partitioned-off compartments. As they
neared the fourth one of the tier Tom heard the man he had brought there
speak out:
"I will only pay the five hundred, as I promised."
"It's five thousand, or you never see the boy again."
"I arrest both of yez!" here announced the policeman, stalking into the
compartment, and placing a hand on the shoulder of each of the two men,
who arose in alarm to their feet.
"What's this?" snapped out Brady.
"Resisting an officer of the law, are yez?" shouted the policeman, as
Brady tried to escape his clutch, and he shaking the culprit till his
teeth chattered,
"Donner! I am lost!" gasped the other prisoner.
"I say----" protested Brady anew.
"Shut up!" ordered the policeman. "You'll have a chance to explain to
the captain at headquarters."
"Aha!" hissed Brady, as, pulled out into the main room, he for the first
time observed Tom. Evidently he recognized him, for a sullen, surly look
came into his crafty face.
At the door of the restaurant the policeman paused.
"Go to the second corner, lad," he directed Tom, "and tell officer Moore
his partner needs his assistance."
Tom did as directed, and five minutes later the prisoners were led down
the street, each in the charge of a stalwart guardian of the law.
When the party reached the station, the first policeman beckoned to Tom
and led him to the office of the police captain. Tom told his story in a
simple direct way. The captain came out and looked first at the
grotesque figure and affrighted face of the big man, and then at Brady.
"Ah, it's you, is it?" exclaimed the police official, with a start of
recognition. "Circus Jake."
"I think you are mistaken," muttered Brady, in a surly tone.
"Oh, no, I'm not. If you think so, I'll just send for your picture from
the Rogues' Gallery, and go over a few records. Lahey, keep your eye
close on this fellow till I need him. You two come with me."
The speaker led Tom and the man with the big satchel into his private
office, and beckoned both of them to seats after closing the door.
"Now then, young man," he directed Tom, "tell your story before this
man."
Tom began at the commencement of the Donner incident, and followed it up
to its present climax. All through the recital, as reference was made to
Harry Ashley, the old man started, ejaculated, grimaced and groaned.
"Ah, he was not Harry Ashley, he was Ernest Warren, the son of my
benefactor, my friend! Did he ever say that I, Blennerhassett, abused
him?"
"He never said anything about you, for we did not know that he was
Ernest Warren," explained Tom.
"Now, then, for your story, Mr. Blennerhassett, if that is your name,"
spoke the police captain.
The old man looked flustered and frightened. He cast an apprehensive
glance out at the street, an appealing one at the captain.
"The Czar of Russia shall not be told?" he at length articulated.
"The Czar of Russia?" repeated the official, with a mystified stare.
"What has he got to do with it?"
"Everything," declared Blennerhassett, with a groan. "You will not
advise the spies of foreign governments?" he persisted, very seriously.
The captain evidently concluded that he was dealing with a lunatic, for
he said indulgently:
"Surely not."
"And no notoriety in the newspapers, so that I might be trailed down by
assassins?"
"Not a word, provided you tell the truth."
The old man began his story, which was an interesting one. It seemed he
had been a Russian spy, and a price was set on his head. A fugitive, he
chanced to meet in Germany the father of Ernest Warren. The latter was
very kind to him. Mr. Warren was a civil engineer engaged on some large
public work. He took sick and died. He had learned to trust
Blennerhassett as a loyal friend, and had given him all his money with
directions to repair to the United States and take personal charge of
Ernest.
The latter, it seemed, was one of the heirs to an estate in litigation.
It was to the interest of others after the fortune to have him
disappear. Not only to protect Ernest, but also because he was fearful
the Russian government might hunt him down personally, Blennerhassett
had made his new home in an isolated old house about fifty miles up the
coast from Rockley Cove.
He never explained to Ernest the cause of this seclusion and mystery.
The lad had rebelled against such a solitary life, had run away after
accidentally destroying five hundred dollars by fire, and
Blennerhassett, not daring to come out openly, had surreptitiously
visited a nearby wireless station when its operator was absent, and
under cover had tried to communicate with the outside world.
He had incidentally come across Brady, and had started him on a search
for the runaway, promising a five hundred dollar reward for finding him.
The day before the present one a demand had come from Brady for five
thousand dollars to be brought to Springville at once, or the boy would
never be returned.
"The five hundred dollars Ernest burned up was his own money," explained
Blennerhassett. "I love him as my own son. All I ask is that I find
him."
The police captain opened the door of his office and called out into the
station main room.
"Bring that man in here," he directed; and Brady slouched into the
private office.
"Now then," said the captain, "short and sweet's the word for you. Think
we don't know you, eh? I suppose you're not the man who advertised a set
of parlor furniture by mail for fifty cents, and a yard of silk for a
quarter, and a plan to save your gas bills for a dollar, and how to kill
cockroaches for a dime?"
"That's old," growled the discomfited Brady.
"Why," explained the police official, "he sent a toy set of furniture to
investors, and a yard of sewing silk, told them to save their gas bills
on a file, and advised them to get a board and a club and whack the
roaches. Now, sharp and brisk. You've kidnapped this man's charge. I'll
send two officers with you to your partner to give him up. Produce him,
and you go free. Otherwise I'll telegraph all over the country to find
out your latest schemes, and lock you up for abduction and extortion in
the meanwhile."
"I've done my work for this old man," blurted out Brady.
"Yes," assented Blennerhassett, "and the price was to be five hundred
dollars, not five thousand dollars. I'll pay the five hundred."
"All right," muttered Brady, "I'll give in."
"And I'll go with him to see that the boy is all right," said
Blennerhassett.
Brady was released later, for the old man returned to the police station
within an hour. Harry Ashley, or Ernest Warren, as his real name was,
came in his company.
There was a joyful meeting between Tom and his friend. It was made still
more happy when Ernest was informed that the estate in which he was
interested had been settled, and his share was some twenty thousand
dollars.
The guardian and his ward accompanied Tom back to Rockley Cove as guests
at the Barnes homestead. Tom at once repaired to the wireless station.
He put his excitable chum in transports of delight when he announced the
success of his search for the stolen Harry Ashley.
"Had some visitors here this afternoon," announced Ben. "Mart Walters
and young Aldrich came along. Aldrich was hot and furious to know if you
had used his launch. Just as I explained to them that you had, and
thereby saved Grace Morgan's life, and they toned down a little, along
came Grace herself. She overheard their squabbling, and turned her back
on them and wouldn't speak to them. They sneaked away."
"Oh, Grace was here?" said Tom, trying to look only ordinarily
interested.
"She was," replied Ben sprightly, "and spent a pleasant hour. She made
me tell her all about the way we telegraph. She even made me teach her
certain dots and dashes. Hello! why, there's a call from my home
wireless outfit."
The receiver began to buzz and click. Tom looked suspiciously at his
comrade.
"T-o-m B-a-r-n-e-s, y-o-u a-r-e m-z m-x m-y h-e-r-o. A-u-n-t B-e-r-t-h-a
w-a-n-t-s t-o s-e-e y-o-u. G-r-a-c-e," came the message.
"H-m," commented Tom, flushing as his chum chuckled audibly. "Up to
tricks, are you? What are you laughing at?"
"Why," smiled Ben seriously, "I was just thinking what a whole lot the
Morgan family think of you, Tom!"
It took two full weeks for Rockley Cove and its vicinity to get over the
courageous exploit of Tom Barnes in saving the passengers and crew of
the _Olivia_.
Bill Barber shared in the general commendation. He appeared on the
streets of the village, chipper, ambitious and well dressed, with the
great desire of his life, a full-blooded bulldog, at his heels.
He boasted proudly that he had given Bert Aldrich a receipt in full for
the eleven dollars and seventy-five cents, in lieu of the use of the
_Beulah_ the night of the big storm.
"I told him I could loan him a few dollars if he was so hard up he
couldn't get along," chuckled Bill, jingling some coins in his pocket.
The steamship company sent a substantial reward to both Tom and Bill,
and offered the latter a good position on their line, which he accepted
promptly.
Bert Aldrich sneaked away from Rockley Cove with his crack launch,
without being even permitted to say good-by to Grace; and Mart Walters
remained in the back of the books of that offended little lady for a
long time to come.
Tom became a regular visitor at the Morgan home. His ability as a
wireless operator had attracted the attention of headquarters, where he
was offered a good position.
Even his parents were willing that he should accept it, and for two
years Tom worked his way up to an inspectorship, taking a technical
evening course in a college at New York City.
A new expert operator was put in charge at Station Z, but Ben was still
retained as a helper. Ernest and old Blennerhassett settled down at
Rockley Cove, and after a year at school the old Harry Ashley got an
appointment as a regular man at the tower. Blennerhassett gradually
worked out of his foolish fears of foreign enemies.
Both Ben and Ernest were fascinated with the wireless business, and the
frequent visits of Tom along the circuit encouraged them.
Tom spent nearly half his time at Rockley Cove. He was a regular visitor
at the Morgan home. One morning Ben came into the tower with a happy
smile on his face. He went at once to the instrument and called
headquarters.
"Why so cheerful, Ben?" inquired Ernest.
"Message."
"Yes, I know, but what is its purport?"
"Mr. Morgan wishes me to send a society announcement to the New York
press."
"Indeed?"
"Exactly--the engagement of our sweet little friend, Grace, to our old
time chum, Tom Barnes, the young wireless operator of Rockley Cove."
THE END
THE WEBSTER SERIES
By FRANK V. WEBSTER
Mr. Webster's style is very much like that of the boys' favorite author,
the late lamented Horatio Alger, Jr., but his tales are thoroughly
up-to-date.
Cloth. 12mo. Over 200 pages each. Illustrated. Stamped in various
colors.
Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.
Only A Farm Boy
_or Dan Hardy's Rise in Life_
The Boy From The Ranch
_or Roy Bradner's City Experiences_
The Young Treasure Hunter
_or Fred Stanley's Trip to Alaska_
The Boy Pilot of the Lakes
_or Nat Morton's Perils_
Tom The Telephone Boy
_or The Mystery of a Message_
Bob The Castaway
_or The Wreck of the Eagle_
The Newsboy Partners
_or Who Was Dick Box?_
Two Boy Gold Miners
_or Lost in the Mountains_
The Young Firemen of Lakeville
_or Herbert Dare's Pluck_
The Boys of Bellwood School
_or Frank Jordan's Triumph_
Jack the Runaway
_or On the Road with a Circus_
Bob Chester's Grit
_or From Ranch to Riches_
Airship Andy
_or The Luck of a Brave Boy_
High School Rivals
_or Fred Markham's Struggles_
Darry The Life Saver
_or The Heroes of the Coast_
Dick The Bank Boy
_or A Missing Fortune_
Ben Hardy's Flying Machine
_or Making a Record for Himself_
Harry Watson's High School Days
_or The Rivals of Rivertown_
Comrades of the Saddle
_or The Young Rough Riders of the Plains_
Tom Taylor at West Point
_or The Old Army Officer's Secret_
The Boy Scouts of Lennox
_or Hiking Over Big Bear Mountain_
The Boys of the Wireless
_or a Stirring Rescue from the Deep_
Cowboy Dave
_or The Round-up at Rolling River_
Jack of the Pony Express
_or The Young Rider of the Mountain Trail_
The Boys of the Battleship
_or For the Honor of Uncle Sam_
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK
THE SADDLE BOYS SERIES
By CAPTAIN JAMES CARSON
12mo. Illustrated. Price per volume, 50 cents, postpaid.
All lads who love life in the open air and a good steed, will want to
peruse these books. Captain Carson knows his subject thoroughly, and his
stories are as pleasing as they are healthful and instructive.
THE SADDLE BOYS OF THE ROCKIES
_or Lost on Thunder Mountain_
Telling how the lads started out to solve the mystery of a great noise
in the mountains--how they got lost--and of the things they discovered.
THE SADDLE BOYS IN THE GRAND CANYON
_or The Hermit of the Cave_
A weird and wonderful story of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado, told in
a most absorbing manner. The Saddle Boys are to the front in a manner to
please all young readers.
THE SADDLE BOYS ON THE PLAINS
_or After a Treasure of Gold_
In this story the scene is shifted to the great plains of the southwest
and then to the Mexican border. There is a stirring struggle for gold,
told as only Captain Carson can tell it.
THE SADDLE BOYS AT CIRCLE RANCH
_or In at the Grand Round-up_
Here we have lively times at the ranch, and likewise the particulars of
a grand round-up of cattle and encounters with wild animals and also
cattle thieves. A story that breathes the very air of the plains.
THE SADDLE BOYS ON MEXICAN TRAILS
_or In the Hands of the Enemy_
The scene is shifted in this volume to Mexico. The boys go on an
important errand, and are caught between the lines of the Mexican
soldiers. They are captured and for a while things look black for them;
but all ends happily.
CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK