“Now that you speak of it, I did find some loose screws, as though some of the other instruments had been tampered with.”
“I hate to think of it,” replied the captain, “but it looks very much as though young Harper took advantage of his position to tinker with the instruments.”
“That might be true about the other instruments, Captain, but he would certainly know what would result from driving a nail into a field coil.”
“Maybe so, maybe so, but he may not know half as much about wireless as you think. All I can do is to go according to the facts. They point to young Harper. But we shall have to have more evidence on the matter before I decide what to do. Furthermore, the situation is so very unusual that I am puzzled as to what should be done, even if I knew Harper to be the culprit. In a sense he was a regular operator. I made him one temporarily. But he is under age, and we did not have the consent of his mother to his enlistment. And finally, I should have to take into consideration the very real service he rendered us during the storm. Strictly, I suppose, he was only a volunteer that I put in charge for a time.”
“I can’t help feeling that the lad is innocent,” urged the chief radio man. “He undoubtedly knows a lot about wireless, and no one who knows anything about it would have done what he did unless he intended to cripple the service.”
“We must go by the facts, young man, not by theories,” said the captain a little testily. “But let’s get all the facts. Say nothing. Let no one know you have discovered the cause of the trouble. If the culprit thinks he is undiscovered, he may give himself away.”
CHAPTER XVII
A SHIP IN DISTRESS
The day succeeding that on which Mr. Sharp found the nail in the field coil was another of those cold, stormy days so typical of the fall. The heavens were gray with threatening clouds. Fitfully the wind moaned and sobbed, and there was a rawness in the atmosphere that penetrated even the warmest of woolen clothing. Everything portended the approach of a storm.
The weather itself was enough to make one gloomy. But Henry, already worried sadly by the misfortune that had befallen him, was almost sick with apprehension. If only he could have done something toward unraveling the mystery that surrounded him, time would have passed more quickly and not so dismally. But there seemed to be nothing he could do except wait.
The day’s newspapers, brought aboard with the mail, told of gales raging farther along the coast, and of storm warnings posted along the entire Atlantic. Evidently another gale was sweeping the ocean. Terrible as had been the storm Henry had so recently witnessed, he felt that he would almost rejoice at an opportunity to go out and face another. Then there would be a chance to do something, there would be an opportunity for action.