The Brighton Boys in the Radio Service | Page 6

indirectly led to a new and thrilling experience for the lads.
"I am ordered to report to aid in the repairs to the wireless of another vessel," said the lieutenant, after perusing the order that a private had brought to him. "It will require until late to-night to finish. Inasmuch as this is probably the last night that you lads will spend on land for some time, you might as well see a little of the city, if you care to, but be sure that you are within the gates of the yard before ten o'clock."
He then gave each of the boys a pass, and told them to be aboard the Everett not later than half-past ten o'clock, and departed for the special work to which he had been called.
"Wouldn't you like to be a lieutenant, though?" exclaimed Joe enthusiastically. "Just imagine being called from ship to ship to help them out of their difficulties."
And, discussing their aspirations and what the future held for them, the three young men from Brighton went to mess, afterward brushed their brand-new uniforms of the last possible speck of dust, and left the navy yard for a stroll through the southern section of the city founded by William Penn.
How far they walked none of them knew. They had turned many corners, and their conversation had covered a wide field--always, however, turning upon some military subject--when a church clock tolled out nine times.
"I think we had better return," said Slim, who was beginning to tire under the long day's strain and excitement.
"Yes," agreed Jerry, "but which way do we go?"
They were, in truth, lost. Uniformed as they were, they were ashamed to ask directions, and finally agreed that Joe was right in indicating that they should walk straight southward.
Twelve blocks southward they walked, and the damp, marshy atmosphere assured them that they were nearing the river, but their only hope now, as they plodded across desolate and deserted dumps, and even invaded a truck patch or two, was that they would strike a road that led around to the navy yard entrance.
"What's that?" exclaimed Jerry in a hoarse whisper, grasping a boy on either side of him by the arm. "Did you hear?"
"I thought I heard something," averred Slim, also lowering his voice. "What did it sound like to you?"
"We are almost upon the river bank," said Joe. "It was someone rowing, but it sounded to me as though they were using muffled oars."
While the boys stopped to listen, the rowing began again, very slowly, very cautiously, and then there was a muffled splash.
At the same instant a great flashlight to the south began playing first upon the sky, and then, in a slow arc, down the river and then inland toward themselves.
Although they did not come quite within its radius, the boat they had heard was between them and the light! It was a row boat, evidently heavily laden, for it rode low in the water, and it was occupied by one man, who was crouching in the bottom as though to avoid discovery!
Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the searchlight was obscured, and the blackness of the night was more intense by contrast.
"That light was at the navy yard," said Joe, beginning to peel off his coat. "Jerry, you're a fast runner. By heading straight in the way I'm looking you ought to be able to get to the yard in ten minutes. Do it as quickly as you can. Slim will stay here."
By this time Joe had stripped off his shirt and preparing to unlace his shoes.
"And you," blurted Jerry and Slim, almost at the same instant, but still in guarded tones, "what are you going to do?"
"I'm as safe as a duck in the water, and almost as noiseless," responded Joe calmly. "I'm going to swim out and see what is going on. That man out there is a spy!"
CHAPTER III
UNEXPECTED ACTION
If red-headed, freckle-faced Jerry Macklin, star sprinter of Brighton, ever ran in his life he ran that night. Down across the uneven, hill-dotted dumps he tore at a speed that would have put his school records to shame. Three times he fell, but each time on the instant he was up and off again, without even a thought as to whether or not he had injured himself.
And all the time he kept repeating in his mind, "There's a spy out there planning dangerous things for the navy yard and the United States. Joe's in the icy water watching him, and I must get help as fast as I can."
It was good, too, that he did put forth the last ounce of his strength. Sergeant Martin was just passing through the navy yard gate as Jerry arrived, his uniform covered with loose ashes and dirt, and his hands bleeding from stone