CHAPTER XXVI: A JOYOUS MESSAGE.
Jack found the life on board the ice-patrol cutter much to his liking. There was almost constant work for him, for the southern drift of the ice was unusually heavy that year.
Many a liner had reason to thank the constant vigilance of the ice-patrol craft. Across miles of ocean, through space, there would flash, from Jack’s key, the message that warned of the white terrors of the north. The knowledge thus gained enabled the ship receiving it either to alter her course so as to steer clear of danger, or to be on the lookout for bergs or drift ice.
Nor was the work of the Thespis limited to this. On her long “beat� she found occasion two or three times to render aid to the crews of ice-battered sailing vessels. Jack’s unique device for blowing up icebergs by wireless was tested many times and was never found wanting. That spring it did invaluable service, all of which was duly mentioned in Captain Simms’ report to Washington, when that came to be made.
As the spring wore on and the latter part of May approached, the “patrol� of the Thespis lay further and further north. One day Jack received a flash from Washington, relayed from northern stations. The message gave the Thespis additional work to do.
“Watch international sealing boundary closely,� it read, “apprehend all poachers. Learn Terror Carson on schooner Polly Ann in your vicinity. Try all means to capture him.�
But although a sharp lookout was kept, nothing was seen of the trig schooner, and little did Jack imagine what ties of friendship bound him to one of the Polly Ann’s company. And so the days slipped by, with occasional excitement to vary the routine, and the time was not far off when danger of icebergs for that year would be passed and gone, and the Thespis would put back to New York on regular duty.
When that occurred, Jack’s days with the iceberg patrol would be numbered, and he had found the work so interesting that he rather regretted this. Yet he knew that he was far from the top of the ladder yet and that he had many a step to climb in the days to come. On his return he knew that Mr. Jukes would be back, and he was hoping for an appointment on one of the great new liners of the company.
However, these were all day dreams, and Jack was a practical youth. Then, too, a good deal of spare time was occupied perfecting his portable wireless. He had given it several tests and reaped a satisfying reward for his months of labor over it when he discovered that it worked well up to a radius of 156 miles. The weakest point about it was the hand-driven dynamo. But just at present Jack saw no way to remedy this without increasing the weight of the contrivance so much as to impair its portability.
On the night that young Raynor, far off on lonely Skull Island, sent out his calls after a day of vain efforts at communication, the Thespis was further to the north than she had yet cruised. Jack was unusually tired after a day of hard work, for several icebergs and fields and not a few growlers had been sighted, and he had been kept very busy sending out warnings and answering questions flung at him from all along the Atlantic track.
But at last the long day was over and his reports neatly written out and posted in the big “Berg Book� or log. He was at liberty to turn in, for if icebergs were sighted during the night by the watch, he knew that he would be at once notified so that he could spread the warning broadcast.
As usual, he slept soundly, but he was troubled by dreams. They were of Raynor. With remarkable vividness he saw his chum adrift on a sea of ice surrounded by perils. Then the scene shifted, and Raynor was on a small vessel in a furious storm. Jack saw the little craft lifted on giant billows and harassed by pounding ice masses. Then came a terrific crash and the small vessel broke up. For a flash, Jack saw Raynor swimming heroically in the boiling waves and then—he awakened with a cry of alarm.
“Gracious, what a dream,� he muttered. “I’m glad I don’t have a nightmare often.�
He looked at the clock on the bulkhead. It was time to turn out. As was his custom, Jack inspected the “tell-tale� tape of the wireless before he did anything else. This tape is an automatic contrivance that works under a “tapper� connected with the receiving part of the wireless. An inked roller checks off on it any dots and dashes that may have come over the wire while the operator was otherwise engaged. To anyone who can read code, therefore, it forms a complete record.
Jack picked up the tape in a rather perfunctory way. He expected to find nothing on it but the usual inquiries about bergs reported earlier and so forth.
But hardly had he cast his eyes on it this morning than he almost dropped it again as, if it had been red-hot.
Marked on it over and over again were these symbols:
| ... | .. | ... |
| S | O | S |
His trained eye skimmed over other markings on the inked tape. To him the array of dots and dashes was as plain as print.
“We are marooned on a small island. Skull Island. Send help.� Then followed the bearings of the island just as Raynor had taken them from the course pricked off on Terror Carson’s chart.
Jack, without waiting even to transmit a report to Captain Simms, switched on the transmitting current. Then he began to make the wireless crack and whistle as flash after flash volleyed out at his crisp decisive handling of the key.
“Skull Island! Skull Island! Skull Island!� he crackled out from the aërials of the Thespis.
But what appeared to be an eternity passed and no answer came. Jack had some time since made his report to Captain Simms, who had informed him that Skull Island was a speck on the map some 250 miles to the north-west of their present position. The whole ship buzzed with excitement. Every now and then an officer’s head would be poked in the door of the wireless room to know if any answer had been received yet.
“It is the most unique situation I ever heard of,� declared Captain Simms. “I am half inclined to believe it may be some trick. How could anyone, on such a forsaken spot as Skull Island, which is a mere mass of rocks and stunted shrubs, have a wireless station?�
But Jack kept patiently at his task. His young assistant, Bill Higgins, helped him as much as he could. Higgins was a young sailor who had shown aptitude for wireless work and had been “broken in� under Jack’s predecessor.
“Anything yet?� he asked as he reéntered the wireless room after scurrying forward with a message to Captain Simms that the air was still silent as the grave.
Jack gave a negative sign.
“I’m going to try more juice,� he said, “there’s a lot of interference this morning. I’ve got to tune it out. Fix up that weeding-out circuit like a good fellow.�
“The tertiary one?� asked Higgins.
“That’s the idea. If we can’t reach them with that we can’t get them at all.�
Higgins took the necessary steps to bring into play an added circuit which would render the tuning of the transmitting instruments twice as sharp as with the ordinary loose-coupled transformer. The spark cracked and snapped like a whip lash.
All at once Jack gave a shout.
“Got ’em, by hookey! I got ’em!�
There was a brief silence while his fingers dashed off the message that came from space in answer to his insistent demands.
“We are marooned on Skull Island.�
“Yes, yes, go on.�
“There was a bad shipwreck. The schooner Polly Ann was smashed by ice.�
“The Polly Ann?� queried Jack, with a flash of recollection. “Terror Carson’s ship?�
“That’s the one, but Terror Carson and all his crew got safe away in the boats. They left three of us here. We have plenty of food and there is water, but the island is uninhabited.�
“Who are you, members of Terror Carson’s poaching crew? This is the ice patrol cutter Thespis.�
“No; we were on board against our wills. We are Noddy Nipper, Pompey, a negro cook, and William Raynor, lately of the freighter Cambodian.�
The next instant young Higgins had reason to exclaim as he stared in amazement at the usually self-contained Jack Ready.
“He’s gone crazy!�
For the young wireless man of the Thespis was doing a war-dance and banging his key as if he would break it off at one and the same moment. The crackling, whanging spark made an accompaniment for his wild caperings.
“What’s the matter? Can I do anything? Shall I go for the doctor?� inquired Higgins when he had recovered his breath.
“Doctor nothing!� shouted Jack, and with his free hand he smote young Higgins a blow petween the shoulders that made that youth cough and his eyes water.
“Old Billy Raynor’s come back! Come back from the grave via wireless, by all that’s wonderful!�