The Boys of the Wireless Part 27

"Something of an expert, are you?"

"Do you want to try me?"

"Just that, Bill," rejoined Tom seriously. "Listen."

Briefly but graphically Tom recited the cause of his visit to the launch. He had Bill literally on fire with excitement and energy by the time he had concluded.

"See here, Tom Barnes," cried Bill, "there's no time to lose!"

"That is certain, Bill."

"The steamer is in danger."

"Just as I told you."

"Off Garvey Rocks?"

"Yes."

"When we get afloat we can probably make out her lights?"

"Probably."

"You want me to help you get to the _Olivia_?"

"We've got to."

"I'm your man."

"I suppose Aldrich will resent our appropriation of his launch."

"Let him," said Bill with a laugh. "I'll take out that eleven dollars and seventy-five cents in the use of the _Beulah_. See? All aboard!

Follow me!"

The Barber boy made a dash for the engine room of the launch followed by the young wireless operator.

CHAPTER XXI-BRAVING THE STORM

A violent gust of wind drove Tom up against Bill as the latter led the way through the cabin doorway. It was with difficulty that the door was forced shut after them.

"Stand still-hold on to something to steady yourself," ordered Bill.

"I'll have things fixed up in a minute or two."

Tom heard his companion grope about the room. Almost instantly a match was flared and a lamp with a broad reflector illumined the place brilliantly.

"Now then!" added Bill, all vim and activity.

He threw open a locker, and from its depths he fished out two rubber coats and caps.

The two boys resembled old tars in their tarpaulin trim. The excitement of the moment was intense, but every move they made was progress, and their nerves and courage were as steady as steel.

"Can you manage the steering gear?" inquired Bill.

"I've tried it on some smaller boats than this," replied Tom.

"Well, I can do the rest-provided the storm let's us. Br-r!"

Even at anchorage the launch was swinging like an eggsh.e.l.l in a tempest.

Bill set the lights. Then he pointed to the seat at the side of the craft next to the engine.

"She sparks automatically," he explained, touching a b.u.t.ton, and there was a whistling whir. "You control with the lever-understand?"

"Perfectly," answered Tom.

"I can pilot anywhere inside of fifty miles," boasted Bill. "Garvey Rocks, you said?"

"Yes."

Bill took his place at the wheel. Tom released the sh.o.r.e tackle. Then he was down in his seat firmly planted. The _Beulah_ made a leap like some marine leviathan bounding out of captivity.

Tom had never had much experience with a launch, but it was sufficient, with Bill's constantly shouted directions, to enable him to run the engine. The thought crossed his mind that he would have the indignant ire of Bert Aldrich to face on his return. It flitted quickly as the peril of the _Olivia_ and his loyal girl friend aboard of the steamer recurred to him with intensified urgency.

One plunge, obliterating all sh.o.r.e outlines, seemed to whirl them into a vortex of battling, unrestrained elements. The first splash of spray, dense and blinding, covered Bill like a veil. A great wave sent the craft hurtling along like an arrow. Tom realized that they were bent on a desperately dangerous venture.

"We can't line the sh.o.r.e; we must get out further from land," Bill shouted back.

Bill, once past danger of sandbars and breakers, had turned the course due southeast. On every calculation of knowledge of locality and distances, this it seemed would be sure to bring them in direct range of Garvey Rocks. For half an hour they drove ahead, neither speaking a word. Then Tom fixed his eye on some moving lights sh.o.r.ewards. They inspired a sudden thought, and setting the lever at steady speed he crept forward on hands and knees along the slippery deck.

"Bill!" he shouted hoa.r.s.ely.

"h.e.l.lo-what's the row?" challenged Bill, amazed that Tom had deserted his post of duty.

"Made out any lights ahead?"

"Not yet."

"Neither have I. There's some ash.o.r.e, though."

"What of it?" questioned Bill.

"They are of the coaling station at Brookville. I am sure some craft is there."

"Suppose so."