The Radio Detectives Under the Sea

by A. Hyatt Verrill

Nearer and nearer he circled, stooping low, leaping high, working himself into a frenzy; twisting, swaying, contorting, while, fascinated, almost hypnotized, the two boys watched speechless and rooted to the spot. Then, so abruptly that the boys jumped, the drum ceased, the dancing figure halted as if arrested in mid-air, with one foot still raised, and then, with a wild yell, he darted towards the boys.

With a startled cry they cowered away. Surely, they thought, he was about to seize them, to kill them. But the next instant the man stooped, and grasping the shining copper resonance coil whirled it about, facing the ring of negroes and waving the coil about his head, while, upon the copper wire, the firelight gleamed and scintillated as though living flames were darting from it.

And then a marvelous, a miraculous thing happened. As the gigantic negro slowly swung the coil, a great hush fell upon the others and clear and distinct in the silence a voice seemed to issue from the black box upon the ground.

“Tom! Frank!” came the words.

At the sounds, pandemonium broke loose. With a wild, terrified scream the horned man flung down the coil and with a tremendous bound burst through the circle of onlookers who, screaming and yelling, turned and fled in every direction. In a breath, the boys were alone. Alone by the fire and their instruments while, crouching behind trees, flat on the ground, wailing like lost souls, the negroes watched from a distance with wildly rolling eyes and terror-stricken faces.

But the boys at the time gave little heed to this. At the sound of their names from the receiver they had been galvanized to life and action. Their friends were near, they were calling them! They were saved! Leaping to the coil, Frank grabbed it up and moved it slowly, until again to Tom’s anxious ears came the sound of a human voice. “It’s Bancroft!” came the words. “We’re near! We can hear a drum and are making for a fire. Where are you? Can you see the fire or hear the noise?”

“Can we?” muttered Tom, his sense of humor coming to him even in his excitement. “I’ll say we can, as Rawlins says.”

Then, scarcely daring to hope that he could send his voice through space by the coil, he adjusted the sending instruments and called into the transmitter.

“We hear!” he cried. “Come quick! We don’t know where we are, but we’re here by the fire—we’re prisoners—a lot of savages have us!”

Breathlessly Tom listened. Had they heard? Would the resonance coil—that marvelous instrument which had worked the miracle—act as a sending antenna? Tom wondered why they had never tried it, why they had been so stupid, why it had never occurred to them. Had Bancroft heard? Would they come? All this flashed through his mind with the speed of light. And then came another thought. Of course they’d come. Even if they had not heard they would come. Bancroft had said they were making for the fire. They would be there anyway and as Tom realized this a tremendous load lifted from his mind. Whether or not their coil had served to send the waves speeding through the ether, they were sure of being rescued. But the next instant a still greater joy thrilled him. Again from the receiver came Bancroft’s voice. “Hold fast!” it said, “we’re coming! We hear you!” Even Frank had heard.