Part 28 (1/2)

”Oh, my head, it goes round,” exclaimed Mr. Rosenstein.

”This lad, with wonderful ingenuity, and finally courage, when he leaped overboard to save your property, traced the guilty parties,” went on the captain, ”and by wireless arranged for their capture.”

”It's a bit of work to be proud of,” said the head of the English contingent.

”It is that,” said the captain. ”It has cleared away a cloud that might have hung over this s.h.i.+p till the mystery was dispelled, which probably would have been never.”

Mr. Rosenstein, who had taken the diamonds from Jack, stood apparently stupefied, holding them on his palm. Suddenly, however, to Jack's great embarra.s.sment, he threw both arms round the boy's neck and saluted him on both cheeks. Then he rushed at Billy and finally the two firemen, who dodged out of the way. Then he drew out a check book and began writing rapidly. He handed a pink slip of paper to Jack. It was a check for $5,000.

”A souvenir,” he said.

”But--but----” began Jack, ”we didn't do it for money. It was our duty to the company and----”

”It's your duty to the company to take that check, then,” laughed Captain Turner, and in the end Jack did. The two firemen, who had helped the boys, received a good share of it and later were promoted by the company for their good work. As for Prof. Dusenberry and his companions, they vanish from our story when, in custody of the detectives, they went over the side a few minutes later. But Jack and Billy to-day have two very handsome diamond and emerald scarf-pins, the gifts of the grateful Mr. Rosenstein.

”Looks as if we are always having adventures of some kind or another,”

said Billy to Jack that evening as they strolled about the town, for the s.h.i.+p would not sail for Cherbourg, her last port before the homeward voyage, till the next day.

”It certainly does look that way,” agreed Jack and then, with a laugh, he added:

”But they don't all turn out so profitably as this one.”

With which Billy agreed.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

THURMAN PLOTS.

It was two nights before the _Columbia_, on her homeward voyage, entered New York harbor. On the trip across she had once more had the big British greyhound of the seas for a rival. But this time there was a different tale to tell. The _Columbia_ was coming home, as Billy Raynor put it, ”with a broom at the main-mast head.”

All day the wireless snapped out congratulations from the sh.o.r.e. Jack was kept busy transmitting sh.o.r.e greetings and messages from returning voyagers who had chosen the finest s.h.i.+p under the stars and stripes on which to return to the United States. Patriotism ran riot as every bulletin showed the _Columbia_ reeling over two or three knots more an hour than her rival. One enthusiastic millionaire offered a twenty-dollar gold piece to every fireman, and five dollars each to all the other members of the crew, if the _Columbia_ beat her fleet rival by a five-hour margin. The money was as good as won.

Thurman sat in the wireless room. His head was in his hands and he was thinking deeply. Should he or should he not send that message to Was.h.i.+ngton which, he was sure, would cause Jack's arrest the instant the s.h.i.+p docked. He had struggled with his conscience for some time. But then the thought of the reward and the fancied grudge he owed Jack overtopped every other consideration. He seized the key and began calling the big naval station.

It was not long before he got a reply, for when not talking to wars.h.i.+ps the land stations of the department use normal wave-lengths.

”Who is this?” came the question from the government man.

”It's X. Y. Z,” rapped out Thurman.

This was the signature he had appended to his other messages.

”The thunder you say,” spelled out the other; ”we thought we'd never hear from you again.”

”Well, here I am.”

”So it appears. Well, are you ready to tell us who this chap is who's been mystifying us so?”