CHAPTER XXIII

THE WIRELESS MESSAGE

FOR the rest of that day the ship had a measure of quiet, just for a change. The storm kept on with its former severity and there was more or less discomfort. Meals had to be eaten standing up, and life lines had been run along the deck to support the one who ventured along the decks forward or aft. Marie was not allowed to leave her father's cabin again while the storm lasted. Considerable time had been lost, owing to the trouble caused by the bear, so the ship was put to full speed.

Of late the boys had taken the keenest sort of interest in the wireless outfit with which the ship was equipped. They spent much of their leisure time with the wireless operator. Steve had learned part of the Morse alphabet and occasionally he tried to operate the key.

Two days later, as they were sitting in the wireless room, where the operator, with feet on his desk, was telling them a story of a wreck that he had been in on the Atlantic when he was operator on a liner, a flash from the switchboard told them that they had picked up a wireless from another ship or station.

The operator quickly adjusted the receiver over his head, listened a moment then threw his key open. A few quick sentences were crashed forth, the aërials above the deck of the ship snapping out the message in sundry vicious cracklings.

Steve tried to catch the drift of what was being said, but it was too fast for him. He could not hear what the operator was receiving, but after a while the operator picked up his pencil and began writing industriously.

Glancing over the man's shoulder Steve's eyes caught a few words that caused him to lean forward with renewed interest. Then he sat back, possessing himself in patience until the message should have been finished.

"That's strange," said the operator, laying down his head piece.

"What is it?" questioned Bob.

"Nothing much. It is just a message I picked up about some fellow that the police want."

"Well, it isn't I, that's sure," said Jarvis with a confident laugh.

"It is--but here, read it for yourself."

Steve read the message out loud.

"'Wanted: One, Gus Collins, for complicity in a post-office robbery at Elgin on the night of June third. Collins has been a sailor and is said to be on one of the ships on the lakes. About five feet ten in height, gray eyes, blonde hair. Has a peculiar stoop to his shoulders, and a habit of peering up suspiciously, but not meeting the eyes of the person he is talking to. Five hundred dollars reward offered for his capture by the post-office department.'"

"I'd like to make that five hundred," laughed Jarvis.

Steve did not reply at once. His face was serious. He was thinking.

"Well, there is one thing certain, Mr. Gus Collins isn't on this ship," announced the operator, hanging up his headstall. "Funny message to send out. Skippers of these boats have something else to do besides hunting down criminals for the post-office department."

Rush nodded thoughtfully.

Somehow, the description of the man seemed to strike a familiar chord in him. He could not help feeling that he had seen some one who in a measure answered that description.

"Ever seen him, Bob?" questioned the lad.

Jarvis shook his head.

"Wouldn't have recognized him if I had seen him. Say!"

"Well?"

"Maybe the bear is Collins in disguise."

There was a laugh at this. Rush read the message over again.

"Shall I take it up to the captain?"

"Yes, if you will."

Steve did so. Captain Simms read the alarm message through twice.

"Pshaw!" he grunted. "Let the government find its own criminals. It doesn't hire me to be a policeman. How's the bear?"

"I haven't heard him complain any since we put him back," answered Steve with a grin. "How did he get out, do you think?"

"The cage tipped over in a roll of the ship. No more wild animal shows on this ship. Are you going to try to earn that five hundred dollars?" demanded the skipper, changing the subject abruptly.

"I had not thought of doing so. You do not think he is on your ship, do you?"

"If he was you'd catch him, even if you had to bait him with raw beef. Say, are you going to stay with me?"

"Why, I am not thinking of leaving, Captain Simms."

"I don't mean now. Of course, you wouldn't leave me in the middle of the season. You're too square for that. I mean at the end of the season?"

"Of course, we shall have to work during the winter. We can't afford to lie around in idleness."

"Yes, of course. But what about next season?"

"That is a long way off," smiled Rush.

"Will you come back with me next year?"

"I could not promise. Frankly, Captain, I wish I might stay with you. I like the life and I should be happy to spend the rest of my days on the water, were it not for one fact."

"What is that?"

"There isn't much of a future to the lake business."

Captain Simms nodded.

"Nothing beyond being a captain. That's the stone wall we butt against sooner or later, if we are lucky enough to get that far. I don't blame you, but I am sorry. I was in hopes you would stay with us another season."

"This season is young yet. Perhaps you may be glad to get rid of me before the end of it," laughed Rush.

"No danger of that. But I am going to make it worth your while to stay, you see if I don't. Tell the operator to send back word, to the man that sent out this message, that we haven't got any safe crackers on board the 'Richmond.'"

"Very well, sir."

Steve picked up the message and left the cabin. He walked thoughtfully aft to his own state room, where he found Jarvis getting ready to go on duty. Rush sat down to study the description of the much-wanted criminal.

"I can't get it out of my mind that I know that man." he muttered. "I know I have seen him somewhere. But where? Pshaw! Why should I trouble myself about the matter? I'm no policeman, and I don't want to earn any money at the price of another man's liberty."

"What's the matter--gone crazy?" demanded Jarvis, eyeing his companion suspiciously. "They say it's a sure sign, when a fellow gets the habit of talking to himself."

Rush laughed heartily.

"Then both of us must be in the same boat, for I heard you mumbling to yourself this very day."

"When?"

"At the time the bear was chasing you."

"Huh!"

"Bob, listen."

Steve read out the message, slowly, giving emphasis to that part describing the man wanted by the government.

"Think hard, now. Isn't there some one whom you have seen that answers that description, the stooping shoulders, the peculiar way of glancing up from under the half-closed eyelids----"

"Nobody but Smith."

"Smith!" Rush gazed at the other boy blankly.

"That's so; he does rather answer the description."

"Of course he isn't the man."

"Perhaps not."

All the rest of the day Steve thought over the contents of that message and the suggestion made by Jarvis. He did not see the stoker, however, until the following morning, just as Steve was coming off duty.

"Morning, Smith," greeted the lad, bending a scrutinizing gaze on the surly fireman.

"Morning," mumbled the other.

"By the way, old chap; were you ever in Elgin?"

Smith gave the lad a quick, sharp look.

"What are you getting at?"

"Do you know a man named Collins--Gus Collins?" persisted the Iron Boy.

"Co--Co--Collins?"

"Yes, a fellow who was interested in cracking a post-office safe out in Elgin----"

"It's a lie!" exploded the stoker, straightening up suddenly, his face flushing and his features working convulsively.

"Ah! Then you do know something about this man, Collins, eh?"

"Ye--no, I don't know anything about him. I've heard of him, that's all. Now you let me alone, or----"

"Smith, you saved my life. I'm not such a cur as to forget that. I think you have something to say to----"

"I ain't got anything to say to you."

"Oh, yes, you have. Come with me to my cabin, where we can talk without interruption. It may be worth your while."

"I won't go!"

Smith raised a hand as if he would strike the boy whose finger-tips were resting on the stoker's shoulder.

"You come with me!" commanded Steve, placing a firmer grip on the shoulder of the stoker. In that way, and without further resistance, Steve led him to his own stateroom.

"Sit down! Now tell me all about it."

The fireman's face was sullen and rebellious.

"There--there ain't nothing to tell," answered the man in a low, half-angry voice.

"You are Gus Collins! I know you, now. I was sure I had seen the man whose description was sent out by the police and the government officials."

The stoker's face went ghastly.

"Yes, I am. Now what are you going to do about it?" he demanded, rising to his full height, standing over Rush in a threatening attitude.

"I am going to talk with you for the present. I think I have a right to do that, and see if there isn't something I can do for you after all you have done for me. Sit down, Gus."

With a bewildered look on his face, the stoker sank into the chair.

"Tell me the whole story, Gus," urged Rush gently. "You need not be afraid of me. I am your friend, no matter what you have done."

For a full five minutes Collins did not speak. It was plain to the keen-eyed boy before him that the man was battling with himself and was trying to decide what his course of action should be.

"Did you have any part in the robbery of that post-office?" urged Steve.

"_No!_" fairly shouted the stoker.

"Then you have nothing to fear."

"Yes, I have, too. I've got everything to fear. I'm a bad man, and----"

"Perhaps you were, but you have wiped that all out by your heroic act in----"

"Boy, I've served time in Joliet. I'm an ex-convict. I stole something once when I didn't know what I was doing. They put me away for five years for that little job. While I was in prison my temper got the best of me one day, and I hurt a man, and----"

"You don't mean you----"

"No, I didn't kill him, but I was used worse than a little yellow dog after that. What little good there was in me was beaten out of me, and--never let your temper get the best of you, boy. It's an awful thing to have a temper like mine."

Steve nodded.

"Well, I got out. My time was up."

"When was that?"

"This spring. I was dogged from the time I left the prison until one day I managed to give them the slip, and----"

"You mean the police were following you?"

"Yes; spotting me."

"What for?"

"To see that I didn't get into any mischief. The last time they saw me I was in Elgin. I left on the six o'clock train, after throwing the spotters off. That night the post-office there was cracked. I read about it in the papers next day, and I knew they'd put it on me. I got clear of the place as soon as possible, shipped up the lakes from Chicago; then got in with this crowd. Now I'll be sent back to Joliet again."

"Perhaps not; not if you are innocent."

"I am as innocent as you are, Steve Rush. Help me, boy! Help me to get away. They'll nail me this time, sure. They've got the line drawn on me fair and square. They sent out that alarm you've got in your hands there. Help me to get away in the small boat to-night and I'll make shore and disappear. I'll fool them. I did you a good turn. Do a great one for me, now!"

"Yes, Gus; I will do you a turn, but I won't help you to escape. That would be a foolish thing to do. The police would get you sooner or later, and your flight would be the very worst thing possible for you when they did get you."

"You won't help me?"

"No, not in that way."

"How then?"

"I shall have to think it over, but if you are innocent, have no fears, for you shall be freed of the accusation. I must talk with the captain----"

Collins started to protest.

"No one else on board shall know of it except my friend, Jarvis, and he is true-blue. When we have you freed I will see to it that you get a berth on this or some other boat, for life, if you want it."

Collins shook his head.

"No; they'll fire me when they find out I've done time. Nobody wants an ex-convict. They drive a man to the dogs after once he's fallen----"

"Here's one man who won't drive you, Gus Collins. Here's one man who's going to stand right back of you and see that you get fair play. Then you're going to hold your head up and be a man with other men. You leave it all to me, will you? Will you promise to do so?"

Collins eyed the bronzed, manly face before him, for a full moment; then he stretched out an impulsive hand.

"Put it there, little pard! I'll stand up, even if I do time for it, if it'll please you any. You're the pluckiest, the squarest bunch of muscle that I've ever come up with!"