Part 8 (1/2)
”Some night we'll be listening to that fellow talking about the new under-sea radio,” chuckled Frank as the talk ceased and the boys laid aside their receivers. ”Say, won't it be sport to hear him telling about us and know all the fellows are listening to it?”
”Well, we won't count our chickens just yet,” declared Tom sagely. ”Just because that receiving set works isn't any proof the sending set will.
And without being able to talk back a diver isn't any better off-or at least much better off-if he can hear what's going on in the air.”
But Tom might have been far more confident, for the following day when the test was made it worked much better than their most sanguine expectations had led them to think possible. To be sure, their experiments came to an abrupt ending right in the midst of the test, for the sending set on Tom's suit leaked and, with a feeble buzz and sputter, his words trailed off to nothingness.
But when, upon reaching the surface, Rawlins reported that he had heard everything Tom had said and Frank and Henry in the shop had also heard him, the boys knew that their plans and the principles of the outfit were all right and that only the question of making the set absolutely watertight remained to be solved.
”I don't see why it should not be inside the suit,” declared Rawlins, as the boys were discussing the matter and were at a loss to know how to accomplish their aims. ”You say these wireless waves go through everything and we get them through the suit in the receiving set so why shouldn't they go out through everything just as well. Look here, I was thinking over this last night and here's my idea.”
As the boys gathered about, the diver rapidly sketched his plan of a new suit in which the sending set could be placed within a receptacle full of compressed air.
”I believe that _would_ work,” cried Tom when he grasped Rawlins'
scheme. ”I don't see why compressed air should affect the outfit any and it's easy enough to make watertight fittings where the wires come out and there's no tuning to do, We can always use a special wave length and if several men were talking under water each one could have his own wave length. Yes. I'll bet you've solved the puzzle, Mr. Rawlins.”
Keen on the new plan the boys started a new set, or rather two new sets, for they wished to make a test to determine if two men under water could converse, while Rawlins busied himself on the special suits and air pockets to be used.
”We'll have to balance the weight of the set against the increased buoyancy of this compressed air,” he remarked as he worked. ”But I see where that's an advantage. One of your troubles has been the weight of batteries and by this air caisson arrangement weight won't cut any figure under water.”
”But suppose the air pocket springs a leak?” queried Frank. ”We'd be just as badly off as before.”
”Well, I don't calculate to have it leak,” replied Rawlins, ”but if you make the sets as near watertight as you can, they'd still go on working for some time before they got soaked. And if I can't make a little caisson that'll hold a hundred pounds of air for ten or twelve hours I'll give up diving and drive a taxi.”
Several days, however, were required to get the set and the air pocket suits ready and when, after a test in the workshop, everything seemed in perfect working order, Tom and Rawlins donned their suits and prepared to descend the ladder through the trapdoor.
Just before his head dipped beneath the surface of the water Tom spoke into his mouthpiece and Frank, listening at his instruments, gave a start as his chum's voice came clearly to his ears.
”So long, old man,” came Tom's cheery voice, which somehow Frank had expected would sound m.u.f.fled. ”Keep your ear glued to the set and be ready for great news. I'll bet we give you a surprise.”
The next instant only a few bubbles marked the spot where Tom had sunk beneath the surface of the water, and little did he or the others dream how much truth was in his parting words or what an amazing surprise was awaiting not only Frank but himself.
CHAPTER VI
THE RED MENACE
During the weeks while Tom and his friends were busy at their work on the under-sea radio, grave and sinister events were taking place, of which the boys knew little or nothing, but which kept Mr. Pauling, Mr.
Henderson and their men in a perpetual state of worry, and of sleepless nights and unceasing work.
Close upon the heels of the unprecedented influx of contraband liquor, which despite every effort continued undiminished and which had completely baffled the officials, came a flood of Bolshevist propaganda of the most dangerous and revolutionary character. Suddenly, and without warning, it had appeared throughout the country. Every town, city and village was filled with it and so cleverly were the circulars, booklets and handbills worded, so logical were the arguments and statements they contained, so appealing to the uneducated foreign element and the dissatisfied army of the unemployed that they were greedily read, accepted and absorbed until the country was menaced by a red revolution and officials went to bed never knowing what bloodshed and destruction the morrow might hold in store.
Almost coincident with this came a wave of crime. Hold-ups, burglars, murders, kidnaping and incendiarism swept like an epidemic through the big cities. Scarcely a day pa.s.sed that the daily papers did not bear glaring headlines announcing some new and daring crime. Bank messengers, paymasters, cas.h.i.+ers and business men were held up at the point of revolvers or were blackjacked on the public streets in broad daylight.
Stores and shops were boldly entered by masked bandits who held up and robbed the clerks and customers alike. Taxis and motor cars were attacked, their occupants beaten into unconsciousness and robbed and the vehicles stolen under the noses of the police. Homes of the rich, banks and business houses were entered and ransacked despite electric burglar alarms and armed guards. Each day the daring criminals grew bolder. From thugs they were changing into murderous bandits; where formerly a man was knocked down or blackjacked the victims were now shot in cold blood.
Murders and homicides were of daily occurrence. Even on crowded thoroughfares within sight of hundreds of pa.s.sers-by men were killed and the bandits escaped and no one felt that life and property were safe.
The police seemed powerless and at a loss. Now and then a bandit was captured. Occasionally one would be shot down, wounded or killed by an officer or by some prospective victim, but still the crimes continued unabated. Indeed, the more the police strove to check the bandits the more they appeared to thrive and increase and the bolder they became.
Lawlessness was rampant and, while the public wondered, criticized, clamored for protection, and countless theories were put forth, those in the inner circle, the secret agents of the government and the trusted ones, knew that, back of it all, the underlying cause and the root of the evil was the red propaganda which they were powerless to check.
Many were the secret meetings, the closely guarded conferences held between the untiring officers detailed to run the menace to earth, to stamp the venomous Bolshevist serpent underfoot, to bring the country to its safe and sane law-abiding state of the past. And prominent in all such closely guarded, mysterious councils were Mr. Pauling and Mr.
Henderson.