THE TICK-TICK
“Put one camera here, Joe.”
“All right, Blake. And where will you have the other?”
“Take that with you. Easy now. Don’t make a noise, and don’t speak
above a whisper!” cautioned Blake Stewart. “You’ll work one machine,
and I’ll attend to the other. We’ll put the automatic between us and
trust to luck that one of the three gets something when the flash goes
off.”
The two boys, with Captain Wiltsey, had made their way to a position
near the spillway, below the great Gatun Dam. It was an intensely dark
night, though off to the west were distant flashes of lightning now and
then, telling of an approaching storm. In the darkness the boys moved
cautiously about, planting their cameras and flashlight batteries to
give the best results.
They had had to work quickly to get matters in shape before midnight.
Fortunately they were not delayed by lack of magnesium powder, a large
quantity having been found in one of the laboratories. This was quickly
made up into flashlight cartridges, to be exploded at once, or in a
series, by means of a high voltage storage battery.
The moving picture cameras had been put in place, Blake to work one and
Joe the other, while the automatic, which was operated by clockwork,
once the trigger-string was broken, also setting off the continuous
flashlight, was set between the two boys, to command a good view of the
dam, and of whoever should approach to blow it up.
It now lacked an hour of midnight when, so the rumors said, the attempt
was to be made. Of the nature of these rumors, and of how much truth
there was in them, the boys could only guess. They did not ask too
much, knowing that there might be Government secrets it would not be
wise for them to know.
But that certain level-headed men did “take stock” in those rumors was
evident, for elaborate preparations had been made to protect the dam.
The preparations were conducted with as much secrecy as possible in
order that the conspirators might not become aware of them.
“We don’t want to scare them off,” explained Captain Wiltsey. “That
may seem a strange thing to say,” he went on, “but it is the truth. Of
course we don’t want the dam blown up, or even slightly damaged, but it
will be better to let them make the attempt, and catch them red-handed,
than just to scare them off before they make a try. Because, if we do
that they may only come back again, later, when we’re not ready for
them. But if we let them see we are prepared and can catch some of them
at work, it will end the conspiracy.”
“That’s right!” agreed Blake. “Well, we’ll do all we can to help make
the capture. We’ll capture their likenesses on the films, anyhow, and
you’ll know who they are.”
“Which will be something,” the captain said. “We haven’t been able
as yet to discover the identity of any of them. They have kept very
secret, and worked very much in the dark.”
It had been arranged, among Captain Wiltsey and his helpers, that they
were to give a certain signal when they discovered the dynamiters at
work, and then the boys would set off their flashlights and begin to
work their hand cameras. The automatic one, of course, would need no
attention, provided the miscreants went near enough the net-work of
strings to break one and so set the mechanism in motion. But that was
problematical, and, as Joe said, they would have to “trust to luck.”
And so the preparations for receiving the midnight callers went on. Joe
and Blake worked in silence, making ready for their part in it. All
about the boys, though they could neither see nor hear them, were Uncle
Sam’s men--soldiers, some of them--stationed near where, so rumor said,
the attempt was to be made to explode the dynamite.
“We really ought to have another helper,” said Blake, thoughtfully.
“There is one place we can’t get in focus no matter how we try, with
the three machines we have. If we had another automatic it would be all
right, but we have only the one. Another hand camera would do, but we’d
have to get someone to work it. I would suggest we get Mr. Alcando, but
you don’t seem to want him. He could easily take charge of one.”
“It is better to have no foreigners,” replied the captain. “Not that
Mr. Alcando might not be all right, for he seems a nice chap. But he
is a Spaniard, or, rather a South American, and some of the South
Americans haven’t any too much love for us; especially since the Canal
was built.”
“Why?” asked Blake.
“Oh, for various reasons. Some of them have lost trade because it
shortens routes. But there, I must go and see if all the men are in
place.”
Captain Wiltsey left him, and once more the moving picture boy resumed
his vigil. All about him was silence and darkness. As well as he could
he looked to see that his camera was pointing in the right direction,
and that it set firmly on the tripod, the legs of which were driven
into the ground.
“I’ll just step over and see how Joe is,” thought Blake. He judged it
lacked half an hour yet of midnight.
He found Joe busy mending a broken wire that ran from the battery to
the flashlight powder chamber.
“Just discovered it,” Joe whispered. “Lucky I did, too, or it would
have failed me just when I needed it.”
“Is it fixed?” asked Blake, as his chum straightened up in the darkness.
“Yes, it’ll do for a while, though it’s only twisted together. Say, but
isn’t it dark?”
“It sure is,” agreed Blake.
Together they stood there near the great dam. There came to their ears
the splashing of water over the spillway, for the lake was high, and
much was running to waste.
“Well, I guess I’ll be getting back,” said Blake in a low voice. “No
telling when things will happen now.”
As he started to go away Joe remarked:
“Where are you wearing your watch? I can hear it over here.”
“Watch! I haven’t mine on,” Blake answered. “You can’t see it in the
dark, so I left it on the boat.”
“Well, something is ticking pretty loud, and it isn’t mine,” Joe said,
“for I did the same as you, and left it in my cabin. But don’t you hear
that noise?”
They both listened. Clearly to them, through the silence of the night,
came a steady and monotonous tick--tick-tick--
“It’s the clockwork of the automatic camera,” Blake whispered.
“It can’t be,” answered Joe. “That’s too far off. Besides, it’s a
different sound.”
They both listened intently.
“Tick! Tick! Tick!” came to them through the dark silence.