CHAPTER XVI.AWAITING ORDERS.
While awaiting orders, which the wireless had told theSt. Mark’scaptain were not ready for transmission, the big liner stood “off and on” at the mouth of the channel. It was wearing work, and all looked forward eagerly to the day when their destination would be settled and they could proceed.
Jack felt the monotony of it no less than anyone else on board, but he spent a good many busy hours perfecting an attachment for a wireless coherer which he hoped would prove of great value in the future, and possibly prove as profitable as the Universal Detector, to which allusion has already been made in “The Ocean Wireless Boys” and “The Naval Code.” One night, after working for some time at somerather abstruse calculations in this connection, he decided to abandon the work for the night and take a stroll on deck before turning in.
Raynor, he knew, was finishing up the last of a series of match games of checkers, so he did not bother to look up his friend. Knowing that Bill was busily engaged, Jack was rather surprised when, at his fourth or fifth turn up and down the deck, which was almost deserted, a steward stepped up to him with a note.
It proved to be from Raynor and read as follows:
“Dear Jack:
“Meet me at once in the stern where we can talk without being spied on. The steward will show you where. I have something important to tell you about Radwig.
“Bill.”
“This is very peculiar,” mused Jack, and then, turning to the steward he asked:
“Did Mr. Raynor give you this?”
“Yes, sir, and he told me to bring you to where he was waiting, sir,” was the obsequious response.
“All right, lead on,” said Jack and then to himself he added: “I can’t in the least make out why old Bill should be so secretive. I might just as well have met him in his cabin. But maybe he is being watched, and thinks the place he has appointed would be better.”
The steward led the way aft through a maze of corridors and passages. At last they arrived far in the stern of the ship where the unlighted passages showed no cabins were occupied. The twenty first-class passengers had all been booked amidships, thus the hundreds of cabins opening on the stern passages were unoccupied and nobody went near them.
“You’ve no idea why Mr. Raynor selected this part of the ship to meet me?” said Jack, as he followed the man who lighted the way with an electric torch.
“No, sir,” he replied, with a shake of his head. “I suppose he had his reasons, sir.”
“No doubt, but this is an odd part of the ship to keep an appointment,” said Jack. “We must be far away from the occupied cabins.”
“Oh, yes, sir. Almost a tenth of a mile. Wonderful, ain’t it, sir, the size of these big ships? A fellow could yell his lungs out in this part of the vessel, sir, and things, being as they are, and the cabins empty and all, nobody could hear him.”
“I suppose not,” said Jack idly. “Are we nearly there?”
“Yes, sir. Just turn down this passage, sir. Right to the left, sir, mind that step and—” Crash!
A great burst of light, as if a sudden explosion had occurred in front of him blinded Jack, and at the same instant he felt a violent blow on the back of the head. Then the bright light vanished with a loud report and he seemed to swim for an instant, in blackness. Everything wentout, as if a light had been switched off, and the lad pitched heavily forward on his face.
“Good, that will settle his hash for a while,” muttered a voice, and Radwig, a short, wicked-looking bludgeon in his hand, bent over the senseless boy. By the German’s side was another man, a short, thick-set, clean-shaven fellow with a projecting jaw, known on the passenger list as Mr. Duncan Ewing, of Chicago.
The light of the steward’s torch illumined their faces as they stood above the recumbent young wireless boy.
“I say, sir,” muttered the man, “I know you’ve paid me well and all, sir, but I didn’t bargain for no murdering business, sir. I——”
“Don’t be an idiot,” snapped Radwig impatiently. “We haven’t hurt him. See, he’s beginning to stir. Now then, Schultz——”
Radwig bent and took up the limp body by the head while Mr. Duncan Ewing, who answered with alacrity to the name of Schultz, laid hold of poor Jack by the feet.
“Now, steward,” said Radwig, as they carried their burden into an empty cabin, “keep a stiff upper lip till we dock, and then I don’t care what happens. You’ll be well taken care of. Don’t forget that.”
“Yes, sir, I know, sir,” said the man, whose hand was trembling as he held the torch; “but I don’t like the business, sir. If it wasn’t for my poor wife being sick and needing the money, and all—-”
“That will do. Go get us the lamp you promised. In the meantime we’ll revive this young fellow and show you that he’s not dead.”
From a carafe of stale water that stood on the washstand, Radwig dashed a liberal application in Jack’s face. He loosened the lad’s collar and chafed his wrists. Jack moaned, stirred, and opened his eyes. For a moment his swimming senses refused to rally to his call. Then, with a flash, he realized what had happened.
“Radwig, you scoundrel!” he exclaimed, “what is the meaning of this outrage?”
“Just a delicate little way of reminding you that it is not well to thwart the wishes of Herr Professor Radwig,” was the reply. “Schultz, my dear fellow, shut that door. No, wait a moment, here comes our man with the lamp. That’s better.”
He took the lamp from the steward, and set it in a frame on the wall provided for it in case the electric light failed from any cause. The steward, still pale and shaky, hurried away after one glance at Jack.
“And now,” said Radwig, “we will leave you to your reflections, my young friend. It will do you no good to shout. Under present conditions this part of the ship is uninhabited. No one comes near it. As for trying to force the door after we have gone, it would be wasted labor. I have taken the pains to affix bolts to the outside of it. Bread you will find, and some water, under the bunk. I advise you to be sparing of it, for you will not get any more and now—auf wiedersehn.”
He opened the door, motioned Schultz out, and turned a malevolent smile on the boy. With a shout, Jack flung himself forward, but the door slammed in his face.
He heard a laugh from outside, a laugh that made his blood boil and his fists clench. He fell against the door and wrenched at it furiously. But already the bolts outside had been shot into place and the portal held firmly.
“Now don’t lose your temper,” begged Radwig mockingly from without; “it’s very bad, very bad for the digestion. I would recommend you to spend your time mediating over the manifest advantages of being obliging. Good-night.”
Jack, listening at the bolted door, heard their footsteps die away down the deserted passageway.