Part 6 (1/2)

Henderson had sent on the search.

Tom and Frank were overjoyed when, a day before Mr. Pauling's s.h.i.+p docked, they succeeded in getting a message to him.

”That's pretty near 300 miles,” declared Tom jubilantly, ”and our set's only supposed to send 100. Say, that's a real freak message.”

But when, a few moments later, they heard some one calling their letters and this was followed by a question as to their location and the information that the inquirer was the government operator at Fort Randolph, Ca.n.a.l Zone, Panama, the two boys could only stare at each other in utter amazement.

”Jehoshaphat!” exclaimed Frank at last. ”We were heard clear down in Panama! Why that's pretty near 2000 miles!”

”Almost as good as that fellow over in Jersey who was heard in Scotland and Honduras!” cried Tom. ”Hurrah, Frank! Let's try again.”

But despite every effort the boys failed to get a reply from any one more than fifty or sixty miles distant and realized that, by some peculiar atmospheric condition, their dots and dashes had been carried through the ether for twenty times and more their normal sending range.

”That's something to tell Dad,” declared Tom, and rus.h.i.+ng down the stairs he excitedly told his mother of the wonderful feat.

”I suppose it is remarkable, if you say so,” said Mrs. Pauling, ”but really, I can't see why you should not talk to Balboa or Europe or any other point if you can talk to your father's s.h.i.+p out at sea. One is just as wonderful as the other to me. But I'm proud of you just the same, Tom.”

When, the next day, Mr. Pauling arrived, Tom could scarcely wait to relate the story of his freak message and his father was enthusiastic enough to satisfy any boy.

”Marvelous!” he declared. ”And the operator on the _San Jacinto_ tells me you've improved a lot since he first talked to you. Says you can send well and had no trouble in getting his message at regular speed. I'm mighty glad you've done so well, Son. Just as soon as I have a chance I'm coming up to see that wonder set of yours. How many have you built since I've been gone?”

Then Tom told his father of the mysterious messages and what had come of their attempts to locate the sender.

Mr. Pauling laughed heartily. ”Well, if you got old Henderson interested he must have believed there was something in it. I don't know but what there was. I'll talk it over with him. But I can imagine your disappointment, and his too-when nothing came of it. No, Son, I can't offer any explanation and we're as much in the dark as ever about the smugglers. By the way, I met a chap down at Na.s.sau that was just about as keen on experiments as you boys only he's not a radio fan. No, he's a diver. He's invented a new type of diving suit-self-contained he calls it. Just a sort of rubber cloth s.h.i.+rt and a khaki-colored helmet and lead-soled shoes. He goes down without ropes or life lines or air hose.

Gets his air from a little box or receptacle strapped to his body. I don't know what is in it, but it's some chemical which produces oxygen and he can walk about where he pleases on the bottom. It's the weirdest thing I've ever seen to watch him wade out into the water and disappear and then, half an hour or two hours later, have him bob up somewhere else.”

”Gosh, I'd love to see that,” declared Tom. ”Suppose he wants to come up from deep water without walking ash.o.r.e, how does he manage?”

”He just produces more oxygen so he floats up,” replied Mr. Pauling.

”And you'll have a chance to talk with him next week. He's returning to New York and I've asked him to call and see us. Nice young chap, name's Rawlins. The only trouble with his outfit is that he can't communicate with others ash.o.r.e or on the boats. Of course he can take down a line or even a telephone, but then he at once destroys one of the great advantages of his invention. A trailing line or wire is as liable to be caught or tangled in a wreck or in coral as an air pipe or any other rope or line and it means some one must be stationed in a boat over him.

He claims one big advantage of his suit will be the fact that as no boat or air pump is needed, no one can tell where he is. That would be a fine thing in time of war, of course. Think you'll take a great fancy to him, Tom.”

For a moment, Tom was silent and then he suddenly let out a yell like an Indian.

”I have it!” he fairly screamed. ”Radio! Submarine radio! I'll bet it'll work.”

Then, filled with enthusiasm, he started to explain his ideas to his father.

”All right! All right!” cried Mr. Pauling, laughing and holding up his hands in protestation. ”I'll take your word for the technical end of it.

Wait and tell Rawlins about it. But honestly I don't know but what there may be something in it. You and Rawlins can work it out.”

So filled with his new idea was Tom, that he fairly rushed to tell Frank when the latter arrived, and for the next ten days the two were ceaselessly at work, drawing plans and diagrams, making and discarding instruments, purchasing countless rolls of wire and knock-down apparatus, as they strove to put into concrete form the vision in Tom's brain.

But they found innumerable difficulties to be overcome and were almost discouraged when one evening Rawlins called.

He was such an enthusiastic and interesting man that the boys took a huge liking for him and as soon as Tom told him of his idea he at once fell in with the boys' plans.

”I do believe it can be done!” he declared, when Tom had shown him the plans and had described his ideas fully. ”I don't know much about radio, but if you are right about the matter there's no reason I can see why you shouldn't get it to work. I tell you what, Tom, we'll fit up a workshop and laboratory down at my father's dock-it's down near the foot of 28th St. and we don't use it except for storage. The old gentleman's gone out of the wrecking business and has sold all his outfit except the things stored there. It's a fine place to work and experiment. There are tools and a machine lathe and about ten tons of odds and ends that may come in handy. My father had his office and workshop there-did all his repairing of pumps, diving suits and tugs there, and never threw anything away. I learned to dive there-my father and grandfather were deep-sea divers, too-and there's a trapdoor where the divers went down to test their suits and pumps. I made my suits and even my under-sea motion picture outfit there and it's private and no one will disturb us.