RADIO MAGIC
“It appears to me there’s one point you’ve overlooked,” remarked Mr.
Pauling as he glanced about. “I thought your main idea in using this
submarine was that if sighted by any of those we are after they would
recognize it and their suspicions would not be aroused. With this
disguise they would never know the boat.”
Rawlins laughed. “Oh, I’ve kept that in mind,” he responded. “This is
just a camouflaged camouflage.”
Then, before Mr. Pauling could ask for an explanation, he turned to
the members of his crew, gave an order and, to the amazement of Mr.
Pauling and his party, the men commenced to strip a layer of painted
canvas from the submarine.
“By Jove!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson, “that’s cleverly done. I never
realized it was not painted upon the vessel herself. You’re some
artist, Rawlins.”
As soon as the canvas disguise had been removed, preparations were
made to get under way and all entered the hatch in the superstructure.
“How about the destroyer?” inquired Mr. Pauling. “Did you arrange with
Disbrow to be near in case of need?”
“Yes,” replied Rawlins. “We simply have to give him our position and
he’ll be within an hour’s run.”
“Didn’t I understand you had a surprise in store for us?” asked Mr.
Henderson. “What was it, that canvas camouflage?”
“Not a bit of it!” declared Rawlins. “It’s down below. Come along and
have a look at it.”
Descending into the submarine, Rawlins led the way through the narrow
passage past the engine room and stopped before a small iron door. “Be
prepared for a jolt!” he warned them and as he spoke threw the door
open.
As the two men glanced within they fairly jumped and both uttered
involuntary cries of utter amazement. Seated upon a bunk in the small
steel walled room was a man and no second glance was needed to
recognize him. It was Smernoff!
But what a changed Smernoff! No longer did the small piglike eyes
glare defiance and hatred at the Americans. His head was bowed upon
his chest, his mouth, once so hard and cruel, drooped at the corners,
his face was lined and seamed and his eyes held a far-away, wistful
look.
“Where did he come from?” exclaimed Mr. Henderson, when he recovered
from his surprise at this totally unexpected and almost miraculous
reappearance of the Russian.
“And what on earth’s happened to him?” added Mr. Pauling. “Why, the
fellow looks absolutely tamed and cowed—in fact broken. What
_have_ you done to him?”
“He’s tame all right,” replied Rawlins. “But we haven’t done a thing
to him—except keep him locked up until we had orders from you. He’s
no longer either an enemy or a ‘red,’ Mr. Pauling.”
“Well, you’re a most surprising man—I don’t wonder your darky
caretakers believe you are in league with the devil—and you speak in
riddles. Come, what’s the story? Why is this fellow so changed and
what on earth do you mean when you say he’s no longer a ‘red’ or an
enemy?”
But before Rawlins could reply a deep voice came from the room and
with a start Mr. Pauling whirled about to find that Smernoff was
speaking; and in English.
“Excuse, please,” he said in slow hesitating words. “Me, I no mek
trouble, no. Me, I theenk maybe can help. Me, I want keel all
Bolshevik fellow. Ah! heem, I dreenk he blood!”
“By Jove, he speaks English!” cried Mr. Henderson.
“I’ll say he does!” agreed Rawlins with a grin. “Always has, just been
bluffing all along, but he’s through with that now. I’ll tell you the
story in a few words. Two days out we sighted a disabled powerboat and
running alongside found Smernoff just about all in lying in the
bottom. You can just bet I was about knocked clean over when I saw
him. Last I’d seen of him he was under lock and key in jail and here
he was bobbing up in a little power boat in the middle of the
Atlantic. Of course none of the men knew him so I said nothing—told
them he was a bit looney and we’d have to keep him locked up.
“The next day he spoke to me in English and nearly bowled me over
again by doing so. Then he told me he’d escaped and all about it. Said
he’d got away by the aid of some ‘red’ sympathizers in the prison and
had hidden with friends on the East Side somewhere down in Allen
Street. While he was lying low he got word from Russia that his whole
family—kids and all—had been murdered by the Bolshevists and he went
clean off his head at that. It was one thing to be a ‘red’ and kill
others and a different matter to have the ‘reds’ killing your folks.
“Well, the upshot of it was that he swung clean around and only had
one thought and that was to get even. He started in by doing up all
the ‘reds’ he knew around his hang-out and then hit it for the docks
with the idea of clearing out—stowing away—in some ship that would
get him to Europe. But he couldn’t make it. Too many cops about and so
he grabbed a powerboat, paddled away from the docks at night and
started for the open sea.
“He wasn’t nutty enough to expect to cross in the craft, but he had an
idea he could get well off the land and sight some outward bound ship
and get picked up. Only trouble was he hadn’t figured on a northwest
gale which drove him off the steamships’ courses and left him disabled
and without grub or water. Drifted three days and nights before we
hove in sight. He thinks it’s a direct act of God and I don’t know but
he’s right. At any rate, he’s keen on being with us and if he is in
earnest—and I reckon he wouldn’t have taken the chance he did if he
wasn’t—he’ll be a help to us all right.”
“It’s one of those miraculous coincidences that are far stranger than
fiction,” commented Mr. Pauling. “But I am skeptical about his story.
How do we know it is not a tissue of lies? He may have merely tried to
escape the police in the launch and invented this yarn to hoodwink us.
I guess we’d better keep him locked up.”
“Well he’s got the letter telling about his folks being killed,” said
Rawlins.
“H-m-m, and his face _is_ changed—I’m inclined to believe him,”
declared Mr. Henderson. “You know, Pauling,” he continued, “there are
no more vindictive enemies of the ‘reds’ than one of their company who
suffers at their hands. You must remember that Ivan was as fanatical a
Soviet as ever lived until his parents were butchered.”
“Yes, you’re right, Henderson,” admitted Mr. Pauling. “We’ll have a
long talk with Smernoff and get at the truth. But for the present
we’ll leave him. Plenty of time after we’re under way.”
Rawlins grinned, “We’re under way now,” he remarked. “Have been for
the past fifteen minutes. Didn’t you hear the engines?”
“Jove, you don’t say so!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson.
“Gosh, I can’t believe it!” cried Tom.
“Why, I thought that noise was just the dynamos!” put in Frank. “Say,
are we under water?”
“Surest thing you know!” replied Rawlins. “She’s under her electric
motors now and runs smooth as a watch. Come on, boys, and have a
squint through the periscope.”
“We’ll stay behind a bit and talk to Smernoff,” said Mr. Pauling. “No
use in keeping him locked up if he’s in earnest.”
Reaching the observation room Rawlins led the boys to the eye-piece of
the periscope and as Tom squinted into it he gave a delighted cry.
“Gosh, Frank, we _are_ under water! Say, I can see the island
back there pretty near two miles away. Isn’t it great! Think of being
in a real submarine under the sea!”
Frank was as delighted and interested as Tom when his turn came to
have a look. Then, a few minutes later, the louder rumble of the
Diesel motors throbbed through the undersea craft and Rawlins
announced that they were on the surface.
“No use running submerged except when in sight of land or a vessel,”
he said, “she doesn’t make half her speed underwater and it’s a strain
on her and we might bump into a reef. I’m not any too familiar with
the channels that will accommodate her submerged.”
Hurrying up the steel ladder the boys and Rawlins reached the deck and
gazed about, delighted at the speed the craft was making and the novel
sensation of traveling on a submarine. But there was really little to
be seen and the vessel might have been an ordinary ship as far as
appearances or sensations were concerned. Noticing the aerial
overhead, the boys’ minds at once turned to radio.
“Are our things all right?” Tom asked Rawlins. “I guess we might as
well get busy and set them up. We may need them at any time.”
“Sure they’re all right,” replied the diver. “But say, I’ve been
wondering how you’ll work this thing. Won’t the steel hull interfere
with the waves?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Tom, “but we’ll soon find out. At any rate if
the others sent and received messages in this craft we can.”
“Well if they could and they did why did they need this gadget
overhead?” asked Rawlins.
“Maybe that was just for sending when on the surface,” suggested
Frank. “You know those sets of ours would only send a short distance
under water and we used mighty short wave lengths. If they wanted to
send and receive ordinary messages they’d need this aerial, I expect.”
“Hadn’t thought of that,” said Rawlins. “I never can get onto this
radio stuff. By the way, how about showing me how a fellow can hear a
fly jazzing and all that?”
“Gosh!” exclaimed Tom, “I’d almost forgotten those crystals. Say, I’ll
bet that’s how they received under water. Come on, let’s try some
experiments.”
Descending the ladder, they made their way to the radio room and
Rawlins hauled out the cases in which the boys’ undersea radio sets
were packed. The naval operator who was in charge of the room looked
rather contemptuously at the “kids” as he considered them, but his
attitude underwent a tremendous change when he learned that the “kids”
were in control of the radio aboard and that he was subject to their
orders.
“Let’s try those crystals first,” suggested Frank. “I’m crazy to see
if they’ll really do all that article said they would.”
As the boys got out the big crystals the regular operator’s eyes
gleamed. “By Jupiter!” he exclaimed, “That’s the first time I’ve seen
those since the war. We used ’em in submarine detectors you
know—could hear a sub’s screw whirring three miles off.”
“Hurrah, then you know about them!” cried Tom. “I’m awfully glad you
do. We only read about them and Mr. Rawlins wouldn’t believe the
things we told him, so we’re going to show him.”
“Well, I don’t know such an all-fired lot either,” admitted the naval
man. “But I know they worked wonders as we used ’em.”
“Let’s see,” said Tom as he examined the crystal in its metal support.
“We have to connect it with our amplifier. There, that may not be
right, but it’s the way I understand it. Then we connect another
crystal to the amplifier. Now let’s see. They say that if this is done
right and the first crystal is scratched or rubbed on something, the
second one will reproduce the noise, only thousands of times louder.”
As he spoke, he gingerly touched the crystal, but nothing happened.
With a puzzled look he rubbed his finger across it and still no
result. Then, opening his pocket knife he scratched the crystal
deeply, but still nothing occurred.
Rawlins began to laugh. “Nothing doing!” he exclaimed. “I’ll bet
they’re only good for medicine.”
“I expect we haven’t got it connected properly,” said Frank. “Let’s
try a different combination.”
While he spoke the two boys were busy disconnecting and rearranging
the wires while Rawlins chuckled and kidded them good-naturedly.
Finally the boys had the wires connected and as Tom turned on the
filament to the amplifier tubes in preparation for another trial
Rawlins, who had been casually examining a bit of crystal tossed it
onto the table. Instantly there was a shivering crash.
“Struck a reef!” cried Rawlins, and with frightened eyes all stood
motionless, silently staring at one another and expecting each moment
to feel the craft reeling or to hear excited shouts from the engine
room. Was she injured? Was their cruise to end so soon? Was the
submarine sinking? Such thoughts sped through the boys’ minds and each
wondered how long they would stand there waiting for the order to
desert their craft. But the steady throb of the engines continued. No
sounds of excitement came from the engine crew. No signal from the
navigator.
“Well I’ll be jiggered!” ejaculated Rawlins. “Must have just scraped
bottom. Close shave though. Well, I guess you’re satisfied those salt
rocks aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”
As he ended Rawlins contemptuously flipped his finger nail against a
crystal and almost bumped his head against the low ceiling as he
leaped aside, for at the touch of his finger nail a high-pitched
shriek seemed to issue from the crystals.
“Hurrah!” shouted Tom. “Hurrah! Now do you say they don’t work!”
“Oh, oh!” cried Frank between peals of laughter. “Oh, oh! That
_is_ one on you, Mr. Rawlins. That ‘struck a reef!’ Say, that
wasn’t a reef, that was just the crystal you tossed on the table!”
Rawlins stood staring with gaping mouth and incredulous eyes.
“Sure it was!” repeated Frank. “See here!” Picking up the fragment of
crystal he dropped it on the table top and again the rattling crash
resounded through the room.
“Well!” cried Rawlins. “That beats anything I ever saw or heard by
twenty miles.”
Half fearfully he reached forward and moved the crystal and a dull
grating noise resulted. He tapped gently on the table and the blows
resounded through the room like strokes of a sledge hammer.
“Beats the Dutch, don’t it!” exclaimed the operator. Then, taking out
his watch he placed it on the table near the crystals and instantly
steady beats like a hammer ringing on an anvil came from the crystals.
“Oh, here you are!” exclaimed Mr. Pauling who now entered the room.
“What are you up to? Oh, I see—trying to show our Missouri friend!
Well, how does it work?”
“I’ll say I’m shown!” declared Rawlins. “Darndest thing I ever saw!
Just look here, Mr. Pauling. Drop something on the table there.”
Rather curiously, Tom’s father drew a coin from his pocket and dropped
it on the table as suggested and at the resounding bang that followed
he uttered an exclamation of amazement and involuntarily jumped back.
“You don’t mean to say that was the sound of a dime dropping?” he
cried. “Why, it’s simply marvelous—absolutely uncanny.”
“Now don’t you believe you could hear a fly walk?” demanded Tom of
Rawlins.
“You bet, and a mosquito sneeze!” replied the diver. “I’ll wager you
could hear a man write his own name.”
Drawing a pencil from his pocket he wrote his name upon the paper
covering the table, and all gasped in wonder as each stroke of the
pencil came to their ears in grating, reverberating howls.
“Ah ha!” ejaculated Mr. Henderson who had approached unseen. “So
you’ve found the magic in the crystals! But I’d wager you haven’t
found all the wonders they contain yet. I suppose you haven’t a
phonograph on board?”
“One of the men has,” replied the naval operator. “Shall I fetch it,
sir?”
“Yes, if you will,” said Mr. Henderson. “I’ll show you a singing
crystal in a moment, and there’s another thing. These crystals possess
another remarkable property—they generate electricity.”
“Generate electricity!” cried Tom in puzzled tones. “How can they do
that?”
“I’ll try to show you when we have tried the phonograph test,” replied
Mr. Henderson. “Ah, here’s the machine.”
Shutting off the current to the tubes, Mr. Henderson removed the sound
box from the phonograph, fastened a needle to the crystal with a bit
of thread and sealing wax, fastened the whole to the arm of the
machine and adjusting the needle so it rested on a record set the
phonograph in motion.
“Now turn on your filament rheostats,” he said, and as Tom did so, the
second crystal suddenly burst into a rollicking song.
“Absolutely amazing!” declared Mr. Pauling as the record stopped.
“Here’s another!” laughed Mr. Henderson, as he again started the
record moving. Then, lifting the second crystal, he placed it in his
pocket with the result that he seemed to be singing himself.
The boys roared with merriment.
“Why,” cried Tom. “With one of those any one could be a ventriloquist.
All you’d have to do would be to have wires leading out of sight and
keep the crystal in your pocket. Wouldn’t it be rich!”
Mr. Henderson now took the singing crystal from his pocket and placed
it on a bare spot of wood and to every one’s amazement it jumped and
leaped about as if endowed with life.
“Dances while it sings,” remarked Mr. Henderson. “That shows how
strong the vibrations are. Now let’s try the test for electricity I
mentioned.”
Selecting a large crystal Mr. Henderson placed it in one of the metal
frames whose use the boys could not fathom and after fastening wires
to it asked if they had a voltmeter.
The operator brought one and attaching the wires from the crystal to
the instrument Mr. Henderson told them to watch the needle. Then,
turning the knob on the frame and thus twisting it slightly, he
brought a strain upon the crystal and instantly the needle of the
voltmeter soared upward to 500.
“Jehoshaphat!” cried Frank. “That beats all yet!”
“I’ll say it does!” agreed Rawlins.
“But, why have you never told us about them before?” asked Tom.
“Simply forgot them,” replied Mr. Henderson. “I never made use of them
and had merely seen their wonders demonstrated out at the Bell
laboratories when I was inspector there. Thought them remarkable but
of no practical value at the time, although I knew later they were
used as submarine detectors and for deep-seas sounding. I can see now,
however, how useful they will prove. What are you boys intending to do
with them?”
“Well, we hadn’t exactly decided yet,” replied Tom, “but we thought
the fellows that had this sub probably used them in receiving undersea
radio and we were going to rig up something of the same sort.”
“I expect they did use them,” agreed Mr. Henderson, “and you should be
able to arrange a set with them. Does Bancroft here know how those
submarine detectors were arranged?”
“Well, not exactly, Sir,” replied the operator, “but I think I can
manage after a bit of experimenting, Sir. That is, with the young
gentlemen’s help.”
“Very well, go to it,” replied Mr. Henderson, “but you’ll find they’re
doing it with your help if you don’t watch out. I’ll wager they can
teach you a lot about radio.”
But both Bancroft and the boys found it a far more difficult matter to
rig up a detector than they had imagined.
“The trouble is we can’t tell when it’s right,” said Tom, “and we
don’t know yet whether or not we can hear even without the crystals. I
vote we get Rawlins to stop the submarine and go down and test the
thing out.”
This seemed a good plan, but they were now well away from land and
both Rawlins and Mr. Pauling told the impatient boys that they would
have to wait until the next day when Rawlins said they would be near
one of the cays and could run into shoal water and test the
instruments.
In the meantime Smernoff had been put through a severe grilling and at
last, Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson being convinced that the Russian
was cured of Bolshevism forever and really wanted to do anything in
his power to aid in stamping out the gang of which he had been a
member, he was freed, but cautioned to remain within certain bounds
and was turned over to the chief engineer.
“He’s a machinist and engineer,” Mr. Henderson explained, “but he’s
also a desperate character, or at least was, and has escaped from
prison twice. For reasons which I need not mention we are inclined to
think he’s reformed and may be of help. Let him work, but keep an eye
on him constantly and if you see anything suspicious or any attempt to
disable the machinery or to do anything that savors of treachery have
him put in irons if you have to tap him over the head with a spanner
to do it.”
The engineer squinted at Mr. Henderson with a quizzical expression.
Then, wiping his big hairy hands on a piece of cotton waste he pushed
back his greasy cap exposing a shock of flaming hair.
“Verra weel, Sir,” he replied. “I ken his breed an’ ye can trust me ta
see nowt happens as shouldna’. But I ne’er used spanner on lad yet,
Sir, an ne’er expect to hae to. Naw, naw, Meester Henderson, Sir; ’tis
a braw laddie I canna make see the light o’ reason wi’ me ain han’s.”
Mr. Henderson chuckled. “Yes, I guess you’re right there, McPherson,”
he replied. “I remember the story about your holding the reverse when
the lever broke on the _Baxter_. Personally, I think I’d prefer
the spanner to your fists if I were the culprit.”
Early the next morning Long Island was sighted and, passing Whale
Point with the submarine submerged, Rawlins headed for Rum Cay. Here,
under Sam’s guidance, the sub-sea boat was brought safely into a
sheltered cove and preparations were made for tests of the radio.
Rawlins donned his suit and slipped out through the air-lock, for the
first test was to see if he could hear what was sent from the
submarine. When, after the stipulated time, he returned, he reported
that he had heard clearly, but not as loudly as in New York. Satisfied
that their sending apparatus would work just as well from within the
submarine as from shore Tom also donned a diving suit for the purpose
of sending to Frank who was left in charge of the receiving set with
Bancroft to help him.
Despite the fact that Tom had been down so often in the north it was a
totally new and strange sensation to descend here in the Bahamas and
from a submarine. He entered the air-lock with Rawlins, saw the
water-tight steel doors closed behind him, saw Rawlins moving a wheel
and slowly the water rose about him. Then Rawlins stepped to a lever,
a round steel door slowly opened in the floor and following Rawlins
Tom slipped through and half floated to the bottom of the sea. For a
moment he could scarcely believe he was under water. He had expected
everything to be indistinct, shadowy and green as it had been in the
north. Instead, he seemed standing in air suffused with a soft blue
light. Before him, plain and distinct, was the bulk of the submarine,
each seam and rivet clearly visible. Under his feet was a smooth,
white, sandy floor. Here and there great purple sea-fans, swaying
black sea-rods and masses of gaudy coral broke the broad expanse of
sand while, over and about him, brilliant scarlet, purple, blue, gold
and multicolored fishes swam lazily, paying not the least attention to
the intruders. Looking up, Tom could see only a marvelously blue void
like a summer’s sky and on every side he could see for what seemed an
interminable distance. It was all very wonderful and very beautiful
and he would have liked to stop and admire it, but Rawlins held his
arm and was guiding him along the sea bottom away from the submarine.
“Gosh, it’s great!” exclaimed Tom, suddenly remembering that he could
converse with his companion.
“Didn’t I tell you ’twas!” replied Rawlins, his voice coming to Tom so
distinctly that the boy started. “Not much like that dirty old river.”
“Hello, hello!” came Frank’s voice plainly, but rather faintly. “Were
you speaking, Tom?”
“Yes, can you hear?” cried Tom.
“What is it you say?” queried Frank’s voice. “I can’t make out a word.
Just a sort of crackling like static.”
Tom spoke still louder and at last shouted, but still Frank kept
asking what he was saying and declaring he could not make it out.
“Well, something’s wrong,” Tom announced at last. “Might as well go
back. They can’t hear.”
Ascending through the open door to the air-lock Tom waited while
Rawlins manipulated the machinery which forced the water from the tiny
chamber and let in the air and a moment later they were again in the
radio room.
“I knew you were talking,” said Frank, “but I couldn’t make out a
single word, just buzzes and clicks. What do you suppose is wrong?”
“It’s the way we have it connected up,” declared Tom, “but it gets me.
I can’t understand why, if we get sounds through our suits with those
little grid antennae you shouldn’t get them here with that bigger
antenna. Did you try the regular aerial connection too?”
“Yes I tried both—or rather Mr. Bancroft tried one and I tried the
other—and he didn’t get anything.”
“Well, if the fellow who had this sub before used those crystals then
they had ’em hooked up differently or something. I wonder if their
sets in their suits would work better.”
Acting on this idea Rawlins donned one of the suits they had taken
from their captives in New York and again went down, but the results
were no better. As Frank had said, there were sounds—buzzing noises
which were intermittent and indicated that Rawlins was speaking, but
nothing that in the least resembled human voice or words.
“We’ll have to think this out,” declared Tom. “We get the noises, but
not the words so it must be we pick up the waves and it’s a question
of modulation. Let’s see. Those crystals magnify sounds when they’re
touched or vibrated or when there’s a vibration or jar to the thing
they’re resting on. Gosh! I believe I know our trouble.”
“Well, what is it?” demanded Frank.
“Why, we’ve got this rigged up for a detector—the way they did for
submarines—and we _do_ get the noises which was what they wanted
when locating a sub, but we don’t get the words. The trouble is we’ve
got the cart before the horse. We’ve hooked this up so the crystals
come before the phones. What we need is to transfer the sound waves in
the phones to the crystals and let ’em amplify them. As ’tis now we’re
amplifying electric waves not sound waves.”
“I guess you’re right,” agreed Frank. “Let’s try it the other way.”
It took some time to rearrange the set, but with Mr. Henderson to
advise and Bancroft to help, it was done at last and once more Rawlins
entered the air-lock.
Hardly had he had time to reach bottom the boys thought when, to their
inexpressable delight, his voice came to their ears clearly.
“Hello!” he said. “Do you get me?”
“Hurrah it works!” cried Tom and instantly Rawlins’s voice responded:
“Bully for you!”
“Walk farther off and see if we can get you,” suggested Tom over the
phone.
“All right,” responded Rawlins.
Five minutes passed and then, rather faint, but still easily
understandable, Rawlins’ voice again came to them.
“All right,” cried Tom. “How far away are you?”
“About five hundred yards,” replied the diver. “I can just hear you.”
“Well that’s about the limit, I guess,” remarked Tom, as Rawlins told
him he was returning to the submarine. “Say, isn’t it just immense?”
“Wonderful!” agreed his father. “But let me ask a question. Suppose we
overhear some one talking. How will you know where they are or whether
they are under water or on land. It seems to me that’s a very
important matter.”
“Golly, that’s so!” exclaimed Tom. “I hadn’t thought of that. Our loop
aerials won’t work in here, I suppose.”
“Might,” commented Frank, and then, “What about that resonance coil?
That might do.”
“Let’s try!” agreed Tom, and calling to Rawlins to wait where he was
they hurriedly disconnected their instruments and connected the odd
resonance coil in position.
“Now, say something, Mr. Rawlins,” called Tom.
Anxiously the boys waited but no response came although the boys could
hear a very faint buzzing sound.
“Well, that evidently is a failure,” said Tom, “but just the same
these fellows wouldn’t have had it aboard unless there was some use
for it.”
“I’ll tell you what I think,” said Bancroft. “My idea is they used
that in the air, when they were running on the surface or just awash.
You might get the words from under water then, or perhaps it wasn’t
used for undersea work.”
“We’ll have to try that—when Mr. Rawlins gets here,” replied Tom.
Presently Rawlins appeared and the boys told him of their new plans.
In a few minutes the submarine had risen to the surface and the boys
prepared to test the resonance coil.
“First we’ll try it in the air,” announced Tom. “Walk over on the
island there, Mr. Rawlins, and see if we can get you.”
Accordingly, the diver slipped into the sea and a few moments later
his head appeared near shore and for the first time the boys
experienced the strange sensation of seeing a man walk ashore from
beneath the water. That they could receive messages with the resonance
coil through the air was soon proved to their satisfaction, and
telling Rawlins to go under water and walk about in different
directions the two boys and their companions, who were fully as much
interested, prepared for the final test. But this was a dismal failure
and chagrined and disappointed the boys gave up at last.
“If we hear any one under water we’ll have to find them some other
way,” Tom announced. “We just get that funny buzz we used to hear in
New York. And I’ll bet anything that was the men talking under water.
But if we hear anyone talking in the air we can locate them all
right.”
As Tom had been speaking he had turned half around and his resonance
coil was swung towards the southeast. The next moment, Frank’s excited
voice called up from below where he had been seated at the receivers.
“Jehoshaphat!” he yelled. “They’re talking! Those Russians! I hear
them plainly!”