The Radio Detectives Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  MYSTERIOUS MESSAGES

  For the next few days the boys were very busy perfecting theirinstruments and, when Mr. Pauling bade Tom and his mother good-by andsailed southward, Tom assured him that he would be able to pick up anymessages he sent.

  "Maybe I'll surprise you by sending a message," he declared. "I'm goingto apply for a license next week and make a sending set. Of course itwon't be able to send clear to Cuba or Nassau, but freak messages _do_go long distances sometimes and anyway, I can get in touch with yourship before you reach port coming back."

  "Great!" exclaimed his father heartily. "And don't forget about straymessages--you may help us out yet. I spoke to Henderson about your ideathat the bootleggers were using radio and he says he should not be a bitsurprised. They're right up to date in their methods, you know."

  That evening, Tom and Frank hurried to their sets promptly at 7:30accompanied by Mrs. Pauling who seemed as interested as the boys in theresult of their first attempt to pick up a message intended for them.She was rather disappointed, however, when Tom clamped on his phones andtold her she wouldn't be able to hear anything.

  "You see," he explained, "if the message comes in, it will be just codesignal--dots and dashes in International Morse--and wouldn't meananything to you and I might miss it if I used the loud speaker."

  Slowly the minutes slipped by. From out of the silent air came varioussounds to the boys' impatient ears--little buzzing dots and dashes fromlocal stations; the faint sounds of a phonograph from some amateur'sradiophone; fragments of speech from a broadcasting station. Carefullythe two waiting, expectant boys tuned their instruments, for they hadtaken the precaution of asking the wireless operator on the ship whatwave length he used and with their sets tuned as nearly to this aspossible they cut out the amateur senders with their short wave lengthsand the broadcasting stations with their evening entertainments on 360meter waves and heard only the meaningless or uninteresting Morsemessages passing from ships to shore or vice versa.

  Over and over Tom and Frank glanced anxiously at the littlenickel-plated clock ticking merrily on its shelf, until at last thehands pointed to 7:45 and the boys fairly thrilled with excitement.Would they hear the message from the speeding ship? Would they pick upthat one message that they were expecting? Would they, in a moment more,be listening to the dots and dashes that represented Mr. Pauling'swords? Neither boy was yet expert at reading Morse if sent rapidly, butthe wireless man aboard the _Havana_ had laughingly agreed to send Mr.Pauling's messages slowly and the boys were not worried on that score.

  Suddenly, to Tom's ears, came a sharp buzz--faint and blurred, and withtrembling fingers he tuned his set, adjusted the variable condenser andas the short, staccato sounds grew sharp, loud and clear he knew thatthe long-hoped-for message was coming to his ears. "Dah, dah dah dah,dah dah, dee dah dah dee, dee dah, dee dee dah, dee dah dee dee, deedee, dah dee, dah dah dee," came the dots and dashes, sent slowly as ifby an amateur and mentally Tom translated them. Yes, there was no doubtof it, TOM PAULING were the words the dots and dashes spelled and Tom'sheart beat a trifle faster and his face flushed with excitement as heheard his own name coming out of space and realized that, across ahundred miles and more of tossing sea, his father was talking to him andsteadily he jotted down the letters as they buzzed in dots and dashesthrough the air from the distant ship.

  "Hurrah!" he fairly yelled, as with the final "dee dah dee dah dee" theoperator signified that the message was finished. "Hurrah! I got it.See, here 'tis, Mother!"

  Frank also had received the message on his set and the two compared theletters they had written down.

  "Of course we made some mistakes," explained Tom as his mother puzzledover the unpunctuated, apparently meaningless letters. "See," hecontinued, "you have to separate the letters into words and sentencesand this one should be an "N" instead of an "A" and I guess this is a"D" instead of a "B," Frank's got it that way. One's a dash and threedots and the other's a dash and two dots."

  As he spoke, Tom was busily copying the letters and forming words andpresently showed his mother the finished message. "That's it," heannounced proudly. "Just think of Dad talking to us--and he'll do itevery night all the way down and after he gets there. Gosh! It's funnyto think we can hear from him that way. Say, isn't radio great?"

  "But I thought you could hear him talking," said his mother in ratherdisappointed tones. "He could send messages that way by the regularradio companies or by cable."

  "Of course he could," agreed Tom somewhat disturbed because his motherwas not more enthusiastic over his achievement. "But you see the fun isin getting it ourselves this way. It wouldn't be any sport to have themessages brought in an envelope like ordinary telegrams. Gee! I justwish we could hear him talk over the phones. Some of the ships havetalked with the shore farther away than he is, but I guess the_Havana's_ radio isn't up-to-date."

  "I think it's fine and splendid of you boys to be able to do this,"declared his mother. "What I meant was, that I had expected to hear yourfather's voice and I really _was_ disappointed when I found it was sodifferent."

  "Well, I'm going to fix a set to talk back to him," said Tom. "And justas soon as I get the sending set done we'll get to work and make abetter receiving set, won't we, Frank?"

  "You bet!" agreed Frank. "Perhaps by the time your father is on the wayback we can really talk to him."

  "Now let's have some music," suggested Tom, and for the next hour theyall listened to the broadcasting station's program as the loud speakerfilled the room with the sounds of music, singing, speeches and news.

  For the next three nights the two boys picked up Mr. Pauling's messagesregularly and were as proud as peacocks when they managed to get thefirst message from Havana telling of his safe arrival in Cuba. And bytheir enthusiastic studies and the practice they gained by decipheringthe messages, the boys were successful in passing the requiredexamination and proudly exhibited their license to maintain and operatea sending station.

  It was a red letter day in their lives when they at last had thetransmitting set in working order and flashed a message into the night,to have it promptly answered by an unknown boy in Garden City. Eachnight, too, they sent out messages directed to their father in the vainhope that, by some chance or by the same mysterious combination ofconditions which had wafted other messages to vast distances beyond therange of the instruments, their words might be picked up in Havana orNassau; but no reply came and at last they gave up in despair.

  Then, their sending set being no longer a novelty, the boys setdiligently to work on other matters and worked early and late.

  "What on earth is that?" asked Tom's mother, when finally the newidea had assumed concrete form and she was invited to witness ademonstration. "It looks like some sort of a huge birdcage," shecontinued as she seated herself and glanced at the wooden frameworkwound with wire that stood on a small table.

  "Well, I don't suppose you can understand," replied Tom, with thesuperior air of one who is master of an art beyond ordinarycomprehension, "but I'll try to explain. That's a loop aerial."

  "But I thought the aerial was that wire clothesline-like affair on theroof," objected Mrs. Pauling. "You see," she laughed, "I _am_ beginningto learn a little."

  Tom grinned, "Oh, yes, that's an aerial, too," he replied. "But this isanother kind. With this we don't need any ground or lead-ins orlightning switches. And it's directional too. That is," he hastened toexplain, "by turning it one way or another we can pick up signals fromcertain directions and not from others. Some people call them compassaerials and they're used on ships for locating other vessels or forfinding their way. And besides, they cut out a lot of static."

  "Now please, Tom, what _is_ all this you're talking about? What _is_static?"

  "Well that's mighty hard to explain," said Tom, scratching his headreflectively. "It's a sort of electricity in the air--lots of it aroundwhen there are thunderstorms and lightning."

  "Lightning!" exclaimed his mother.
"Do be careful, fooling with allthese things, Tom. I'm always afraid you'll get a fearful shock orsomething."

  "Nonsense," laughed Tom. "Static doesn't hurt any one and lightningwon't do any harm. An aerial is just like a lightning-rod and if it'sstruck the lightning is just carried down to the ground harmlessly; butthis loop aerial's different. Now let's hear how it works."

  Adjusting the instruments and attaching the loud-speaker, Tom slowlyturned the cagelike affair about and suddenly, as it faced the west, thesounds of music burst out from the horn.

  "There 'tis!" cried Tom, exultantly. "That's Newark. Now, see here." Ashe spoke, he swung the loop aerial to one side, and instantly, the musicdied out. "Now, listen carefully," he continued and turned the loopslowly around until, somewhat fainter, the sounds of a human voice camefrom the loud-speaker. "That's Pittsburgh," declared Tom. "Now you seehow it works. If it's turned towards Newark we get Newark and if towardsPittsburgh we get that."

  "Yes, it's all very interesting," admitted his mother. "But whatadvantage is it? You used to hear both Newark and Pittsburgh with theaerial on the roof."

  "Oh, it's no advantage for ordinary work," replied Tom. "But it's a finething in some ways. Now, for instance, if we heard a fellow's messageand didn't know where it came from we could tell by turning this backand forth until we got his direction. Then, if we wanted to locate himexactly, we could put it up somewhere else and in that way we could findout just where he was. Frank and I have a particular scheme in hand, butthat's a secret and I'm not ready to tell it yet."

  His mother laughed. "I'm not a bit curious," she declared. "I supposesome day I'll wake up to find you two boys have astonished the world."

  But had Frank and Tom told Mrs. Pauling what their secret was she wouldhave been both curious and surprised. Several times within the precedingweeks the boys, listening at their instruments, had received messageswhich they could not locate. At first they had given no heed to these,thinking they were merely from some amateur, but when, after repeatedrequests for the unknown's call letters, no answer was received and themessages abruptly ceased, the two boys began to be curious.

  "There's something mighty funny about him," declared Frank. "Every timewe answer him or ask a question he shuts up like a clam. Say, Tom, maybehe's a crook or a bootlegger."

  "More likely some amateur sending without a license and afraid thegovernment inspector will get after him," suggested Tom. "But I _would_like to find out who it is."

  A few days later Frank, who was poring over the latest issue of a radiomagazine, uttered an exclamation. "Gosh! here's the scheme," he cried."Now we can find out who that mysterious chap is."

  "What's the big idea?" queried Tom, who was busy making a newvario-coupler.

  "Loop aerial," replied his chum. "Here's an article all about it. Itsays they're used aboard ships to find the location of other vessels andare called compass aerials."

  Tom dropped his work and hurried to Frank's side.

  "Well," he remarked, after a few moments' study of the article and thediagrams, "I don't see how that would work in our case. It says one shipcan find another or can work its way into port by using the loop aeriallike a compass, but the trouble is the ship's moving and so the thingwill work, but we can't go running around New York City or the statewith a set in one hand and a big loop aerial in the other."

  "No," admitted Frank rather regretfully, "but we can tell in whichdirection his station is."

  "Yes, and it will be fun to make one and experiment with it," agreedTom, "especially as the article says the thing cuts out static andinterferences and it's getting on towards warm weather now when the airwill be full of static."

  "Well, let's make one then," suggested Frank.

  As a result, the boys had constructed their loop aerial and a specialset to go with it and the very first time they tested the odd affairthey were overjoyed at the result. Again they had picked up the messageswhich had aroused their curiosity and, by turning the loop one way andthen another, they were soon convinced that the sender had a station tothe southeast of their own.

  "Well, that's settled," announced Tom, "and the only things southeast ofhere are the East Side, the river and Brooklyn. That fellow is not faraway--he's using a very short wave and his messages are strong. I'll bethe's right here in New York."

  "I guess you're right," agreed Frank, "but that doesn't do much good.There's an awful lot of the city southeast from here."

  "Sure there is," said Tom, "but, after all, what do we care. I stillthink he's just some unlicensed chap--probably some kid over on the EastSide who can't pass an examination or get a license and is just having alittle fun on the quiet."

  This conversation took place two days before Tom received his father'smessage telling of his safe arrival in Cuba and no more messages fromthe mysterious stranger were heard until the day after Mr. Pauling'smessage had been received.

  Then, as Tom was listening at the loop aerial set and idly turned theaerial about, he again picked up the well-known short-wave messages.Heretofore the messages had been meaningless sentences in code, dots anddashes which the boys out of curiosity had jotted down only to find themdevoid of any interest--items regarding shipping which Tom had declaredhad been culled from the daily shipping lists and were being sent merelyfor practice--and so now, from mere habit, Tom wrote down the letters asthey came to him over the instruments. Suddenly he uttered a surprisedwhistle.

  "Gee Whittaker!" he exclaimed in low tones. "Come here, Frank."

  The other hurried to him and as he glanced at the pad on the tablebeside Tom he too gave an ejaculation of surprise. The letters which Tomhad jotted down were as follows: LEAR P IN HAVANA ARRIVED YESTERDAY GETBUSY.

  "They _are_ rum runners!" cried Tom as the signals ceased.

  "Gosh, I believe they are!" agreed Frank. "But of course," he added, "itmay not mean your father by 'P' and we don't know the first part of themessage. Maybe they were just talking about a ship--that 'lear' mighthave been something about a ship clearing for some place."

  "You _are_ a funny one," declared Tom. "Here you've been insisting allalong that there was some deep mystery or plot behind these messages andI've said it was just some amateur and nothing to it and now, just assoon as we get a message which really means something, you shift aroundand say it's only about some boat."

  "Well, if it's anything secret why do they talk plain English?" askedFrank. "That's what makes me change my views. When they were sendingthings that sounded like nonsense I thought they might be code messages,but now that they send things that are so plain it doesn't seemmysterious."

  "Yes, there's sense in that argument, I admit," replied Tom. "Butperhaps there was just as much sense in the others--if they _are_bootleggers. Of course as you say, they may not mean anything about Dad,but it would be a mighty funny coincidence if any one or anything elsebeginning with 'P' arrived in Havana yesterday and it happened to comein with this message and with a 'get busy' after it. I'll bet you,Frank, they're smugglers and that's a message to some boat or somethingthat the coast's clear and to unload their stuff. Let's go down and tellMr. Henderson about it."

  "No," Frank advised. "He'd probably laugh at us and it wouldn't be anyuse to him anyhow. We'll keep the message and all others we hear and ifanything else is going on we'll get some more messages, you can bet. AndI've a scheme, Tom. I know a fellow down at Gramercy Park and we can godown there and set up a loop aerial and see if this chap that's talkingis still southeast of there."

  "That's a bully scheme!" cried Tom with enthusiasm. "We can turn radiodetectives--that'll be great! And if we find he's north or west or eastof Gramercy Square we can try some other place. Probably your friendknows fellows who have sets all around that part of the city."

  The next day they visited Frank's friend and after making him promisesecrecy they divulged a part of their plan, omitting, at Tom'ssuggestion, any reference to their suspicions of the messages comingfrom a gang of bootleggers. Henry fell in readily with the idea oflocati
ng the messages, which he had also heard repeatedly, and wasdeeply interested in the loop aerial. He had an excellent set andnumerous instruments and supplies and the three boys soon rigged up acompass set in Henry's home.

  "Now, you listen with this and try to pick him up," instructed Frank."Keep turning the aerial about in this way and, as soon as you hear him,write down what he says. We'll listen too, whenever we have a chance,and will let you know. Then, if you haven't picked him up, you can turnthe loop until you do. Too bad you haven't a sending set so you couldtell us."

  "But he'll hear you and quit," objected Henry, "and how can I hear youif I don't happen to have the loop pointed your way or am listening tothis fellow?"

  Frank looked puzzled. "Gee!" he ejaculated, "I hadn't thought of that.

  "Oh, that's easy," declared Tom. "You'll hear us over the other set withthe loud-speaker you have. That works with a regular aerial and isentirely separate from this set. And we'll arrange a code so he won'tknow what we're talking about. Let's see, I guess we'd better use thephone and not send dot and dash, we'll just say 'we've got the message'and you'll know what it means."

  "No, that's no good," declared Frank. "That's not a bit mysterious orexciting. We're radio detectives, you know. We must have something likea password or code or something. Say, let's begin with 'loop,' thenHenry'll know we mean him. We'll say 'loop, be ready to receive.'"

  "Yes, and have him know something's wrong when we don't begin to sendanything," said Tom.

  "I have it!" exclaimed Henry, "Say, 'loop, coming over,' and then anyone'll think you are telling me you are coming over here. But say,how'll I get your message if I don't sit at my set and tune to you?"

  "That's easy," said Frank. "Just as soon as we get home to Tom's we'llbegin to send and you listen and tune until you get us good and loud andthen mark your knobs so you can set 'em whenever you want to hear us.Then ring us by regular phone and tell us it's O. K."

  Thus, all being arranged, Tom and Frank went up town and as soon as theyreached Tom's room began to send calls for Henry as they had agreed.Very soon the telephone bell rang and Tom ran to the instrument.

  "It's all right, Frank," he announced as he returned to the room. "Henrysays he got our calls finely and has marked his knobs. He's going toturn them about and then set them back at the marks and we're to callhim again. Then if he gets us right off he'll know he won't miss us nexttime."

  When, a few minutes later, the phone rang again and Henry told Tom thatthe message had come in on the adjusted set the boys felt sure thattheir fellow conspirator would not miss any calls they might send him.So, having nothing else to do, they worked at another step ofamplification for their new set, and listened for any signals ormessages that might come in from the person whom they were endeavoringto trail by means of radio.

  Evidently, however, the mysterious stranger had no business to transactand no message from him was received. When at last they were obliged toleave for dinner they phoned to Henry who reported that he had beenlistening all the afternoon, but had heard nothing.

  "We'll get at it again to-night," said Tom. "Most of the messages we'veheard come in just when the broadcasting stations are giving theirconcerts. I'd bet he takes that time so nobody will hear him, or payattention to him. If they're all tuned to 360 meters they'd never knowhe was talking, you see, and if they just chanced to hear him they'd betoo busy with the music to bother with him."

  As Tom had suspected, the mysterious messages did come in that night andso interesting and exciting did they prove to the boys' imaginative andsuspicious minds that they were thankful they had foregone the pleasureof hearing the concert on the chance of the supposed smugglers talking.