The Ocean Wireless Boys on the Atlantic

by John Henry Goldfrap

  The next moment he, too, was escorted into the consulting room. To theboys’ amazement, he rushed up to them and, with continentaldemonstrativeness, began wringing their hands up and down and uttering atirade against the police, the methods they employed and the force ingeneral.

  “You are interested in this case, sir?” inquired Captain Bracebridge.

  “Interested!” M. La Farge appeared to be about to explode. “The police!Bah! Dunderheads! Idiots! Assassins! These boys saved my wife anddaughter from ruffians who would rob them, and——”

  “Your wife and daughter?” exclaimed the boys in one breath. Their casewas certainly taking a startling turn, for already their attorney hadwhispered who the newcomer was and his high rank.

  “Yes, they told me about it on their arrival home last night, and alsoabout the cowardly, foolish actions of Alphonse, the chauffeur, whom Ihave discharged. When I read in the papers of the arrest of two Americanlads and the story that they told, despite which the police had arrestedthem, I was angry, furious. I knew then that the deliverers of my dearones had been arrested like felons,” exploded M. La Farge. “I hastenedhere at once to make what reparation I could for such an act of theidiots, the police! Bah!”

  “Perhaps the police were not altogether to blame,” said Jack as thepeppery M. La Farge concluded his angry harangue. “We should not haverun away, and then perhaps we should not have been arrested.”

  “It was all the fault of that foolish chauffeur in driving away as hedid,” exclaimed M. La Farge. “But in one sense I am glad all this hashappened, although I am deeply mortified at the same time. Had it notbeen for this occurrence, I should never have known whom to thank forthe brave act you performed. I could not have rewarded you——”

  He drew out a check book. But both boys held up expostulating hands.

  “None of that, if you please, sir,” said Jack.

  “He speaks for me, too,” said Raynor. “We’d do the same thing overagain, if it had to be done.”

  “Police and all?” smiled Captain Bracebridge.

  “I beg your pardon,” said M. La Farge, re-pocketing the check book. “Ishould have known better than to offer money for such a service; nomoney could repay it. But I must think of some other way. However, thefirst thing to be done is to extricate you from this unpleasant positionand obtain the apologies of the police.”

  For a man of M. La Farge’s influence, this was easy to do; and the boyscertainly felt that the humble apology that the little mustached officertendered them almost on his knees was due them.

  That evening they were the rather embarrassed guests of M. La Farge atdinner at his home. In order not to make them feel uneasy, there were noguests outside the immediate family; but both boys had to endure whatwas for them quite an ordeal when the pretty Miss La Farge and herhandsome, gray-haired mother thanked them again and again, and almostwept in apologizing for the action of the police. Then, seeing that theboys were really troubled by their thanks, they tactfully turned thesubject, and the boys, whose bashfulness soon wore off, enjoyed a jollyevening. After dinner Miss La Farge, who was an accomplished musician,played and sang for them, including in her program a medley of Americanairs.

  As they were leaving, receiving many cordial and pressing invitations tocome again, their host presented each of them with a small flat package.

  “A slight remembrance,” he said. “It is inadequate to express thegratitude of my wife, my daughter and myself, but perhaps it will helpyou in recollecting that you always have three warm friends in Belgium.Do not open them till you reach the ship.”

  The boys stammered their thanks and then, after more warm good-nights,they parted from their kind and grateful hosts. That they walked brisklyto the ship may be imagined. They were on fire with eagerness to seewhat the packages contained. They hastened to Jack’s cabin and openedthem, and then gasped with delight. Inside each was a gold watch andchain; but, more wonderful than this, was the inscription under eachlad’s name, “In grateful and unfading remembrance of the night of ——from their steadfast friends, the family of M. La Farge.”

  “Phew!” exclaimed Jack, mopping his forehead, not altogether on accountof the warmth of the night, “what do you know about that?”

  “Nothing,” exclaimed Raynor, “nothing at all! Aren’t they bully! Butlet’s see what is in these two flat pocket-books.” In the excitement offinding the watches, they had not paid much attention to two flat casesof dark leather enclosed in each package. The books were opened andfound to contain, under isinglass, like a commuter’s ticket in America,two passes on the government railways, signed by M. La Farge and goodall over the Netherlands.

  The boys’ cup of happiness was pressed down and running over.

  “Just to think that only a few minutes before we ran into our bigadventure, we were kicking because we had no money to travel,” criedJack, as he eyed his engraved pass lovingly. “Now for a few trips!”

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  CHAPTER XIX.

  THE FIELD OF WATERLOO.

  The _Ajax_ was to remain two days or so longer in Antwerp, and the boysreadily obtained permission from the captain to make all the use theycould of their passes. They had already exhausted what they wished tosee of Antwerp, including the famous fort on the Tête de Flandre on theopposite bank of the river, the great cathedral, the home of Rubens’parents, and the magnificent picture gallery.

  Now they could enlarge their opportunities, and they decided to take atrip to Brussels and from there to the field of Waterloo. Accordingly,they started in high spirits on their tour as soon as they could get atrain. Their passes were marked “first-class,” so they soon ensconcedthemselves in a leather-lined compartment, while their less fortunatefellow passengers had to be content with “second” and “third.”

  “I wonder how this arrangement would go in America?” asked Jack as theysank back in the soft-padded cushions.

  “I guess everybody would go first-class,” laughed Raynor. “We haven’tanyone at home willing to brand himself ‘second’ or ‘third’ in therace.”

  “Now who on earth is this?” wondered Jack presently, as a brightlyuniformed official entered the compartment which they had to themselves.

  “Conductor, I guess,” hazarded Raynor.

  The official removed his cap and bowed low.

  “_Bonjours, messieurs_,” said he; “_les billets, si vous plait._”

  “I guess he wants our tickets,” said Jack, fishing for his. This surmiseproved to be correct.

  The politeness of the official was more marked, if it could be possible,when he saw, from the signature on the passes, that the boys weretraveling under “royal auspices.” He raised his cap and bowed again. Notto be outdone, the boys bowed back with equal suavity.

  “_Merci bien_,” he said.

  “_Merci bien_,” responded Jack, who had acquired some French at highschool.

  “Mercy beans, too,” sputtered young Raynor, thinking that Jack wasgiving an order for a Boston lunch. The conductor bowed again andvanished, a bell rang and they were off. The ride lay through a farmingregion and the road was cool, clean and smooth.

  On their arrival in Brussels, they found accommodation at a hoteloverlooking the public square. The windows, although the _maître dehotel_ had assured them that it was one of the best rooms in the house,were only four feet high.

  “Gee, we have to lie down to look out!” exclaimed Raynor.

  “On the square?” asked Jack with a grin.

  “No; on the level; that’s the way I lie,” chuckled Raynor. Both ladswere in high spirits. Their unexpected stroke of luck had surely proveda windfall.

  In the center of the Place Royale, the first place the boys explored,stands an equestrian figure of Godfrey of Bouillon.

  “It was on that spot that he first assembled his crusaders who won backJerusalem to the Christians,” said Jack, wise with
guide-book knowledge.

  “And to think that up to now I always thought Bouillon was a soup,”remarked Raynor dryly.

  Before the train left for Waterloo, they had time to visit the RoyalMuseum, walking down the _Rue de La Régence_. The Royal Museum wasfilled with fine pictures and statuary, but, to tell the truth, the boyshad become a little bit cloyed with art at Antwerp. It takes someexperience and training to be interested in, and gauge properly, suchthings, although both felt that what they had seen had done thempermanent good.

  Several times during their walk to the railroad station where they wereto take a train for Waterloo, the boys were much amused and interestedby the working dogs hitched to small carts. Sometimes the working dogsgot into a fight with the leisure-class canines, and then there was afine racket among the owners and the dogs, till things were straightenedout and humans and canines, both growling, went on their way.

  “Almost all the shops say they cater to the King or the Court ofFlanders,” commented Raynor as they strolled along.

  “I guess they get most of their real money from Americans, at that,” wasJack’s comment.

  The _Gare du Midi_, or Central Station, they found surrounded by a crowdof shouting, noisy, officious guides, and also several individuals wholooked none too honest. They buttonholed every arrival, volunteering allsorts of information in bad English. This, despite the fact that therewere plenty of signs in plain view.

  It was half an hour’s ride to _Braine-l’Alleud_, for the most famousbattle of modern history was fought several miles from the village whosename it bears. This is because Wellington sent his victorious despatchesfrom Waterloo, which has ever since claimed the honor of naming theplace of Napoleon’s downfall.

  They took a small, rickety carriage at the station, and before longRaynor was pointing to a mound with an ugly, clumsy-looking lion on it.

  “Zat is zee Lion of Belgium,” volunteered the driver. “Eet ees modelfrom French cannon and mark zee spot where zee Prance of Orange waswounded.”

  “Is that so?” muttered Raynor. “Well, it looks more like a Newfoundlanddog than a lion to me.”

  “Eet weigh twenty-eight ton,” volunteered the driver again, pointingwith his whip to the lion, close access to which was gained by a steepflight of steps. There are two hundred and twenty-six of these steps,and the boys, on climbing them, were considerably out of breath whenthey reached the summit and saw the historic plain spread out undertheir feet.

  “I’m disappointed,” confessed Jack frankly. “I thought it was muchlarger. Why, it doesn’t look like much more than a parade ground!”

  “Well, it wasn’t much of a ‘parade’ at the time of the battle, withthree hundred thousand men tearing at each other’s throats for five orsix hours and leaving fifty thousand dead and wounded on the field,”commented Raynor, who was well up in history.

  Then they drove over the road built by Napoleon fifteen years before thebattle.

  “Might have been a good cavalry road, but it sure is a bone-shaker inthis rig,” remarked Jack, and his companion agreed with him. They weremuch interested in the farm house of Hougomont, or rather itsshell-battered ruins. This was the hottest point of the battle. TheFrench assaulted it for hours, but did not succeed in taking it.

  The family, who own the house, make a good living selling souvenirs tovisitors.

  “I’ve been told,” said Jack, with a smile, “that every fall they plantlittle bullets and souvenirs. The winter snow and spring rains make thecrop ready to be plowed up.”

  “Profitable farming,” laughed Raynor. However, the boys bought a grapeshot and what purported to be an insignia from an artilleryman’s cap.

  “It must have been a great battle,” said Raynor as they paid off theirhack bill, the size of which made them raise their eyebrows.

  “Yes, and the Belgians are still able to charge,” remarked Jack dryly.

  In the railroad carriage on the way back a self-assertive Englishman washolding forth on what a great victory Wellington had achieved. “Which,”he added, turning to the boys, “was all the more creditable because hefought with raw recruits. Most of our seasoned soldiers were in yourcountry at the time.”

  “And most of them are planted there yet,” remarked Raynor.

  The Englishman glared at him; but Jack smoothed things over andeverything was amiable till Raynor again disrupted international peace.

  “Deuced funny clothes those beggars wear,” remarked the son of Britain,gazing out at a wooden-shoed, baggy-breeched peasant.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Not so much funnier than an Englishman’s,” said theAmerican lad; after which there ensued a silence lasting till the trainrolled into Brussels.

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  CHAPTER XX.

  HOMEWARD BOUND.

  The boys thought they had never seen so many vari-colored uniforms aswere on parade in Brussels. They passed a fresh one every minute.

  “I guess every soldier designs his own,” said Raynor.

  “Well, some of them certainly look it,” agreed Jack as a dapper littleman with a bottle green uniform with yellow stripes and facings and acap without a peak swung by.

  They went to the Church of St. Gudule, an old Gothic structure on thetop of a hill, which Jack wished to see. Raynor came along for company.

  “I’ve seen enough ruins,” he declared.

  “Well, this will be the last one,” promised Jack.

  In the church they found many people at prayer, especially in front ofan altar on which were hung models of arms, legs and every portion ofthe human anatomy, as a reminder to the saint of what part of the bodyneeds help.

  “There’s Adam and Eve,” exclaimed Raynor in low tones, motioning to thefigures of the father and mother of the race carved under a fine pulpit.Some American tourists were admiring these figures at the same time asthe boys.

  “Oh, look!” cried one of the lady tourists. “Wasn’t that sculptor a meanthing?”

  “Why?” asked her companion innocently.

  “Just look! He’s put all the lions and tigers around Adam and given poorEve nothing but peacocks, monkeys and parrots. It’s a shame!”

  The boys had dinner at a side-walk café. They found it very amusing towatch the various types of Belgians who went strolling by, enjoying theevening air. More uniforms than ever seemed to be out. To their surprisethe bill for their meal was moderate, although the café declared that it“Catered to the King.”

  “Well, if this is all he pays for his meals I wonder what he does withthe rest of his money,” was Raynor’s comment.

  After dinner the boys went out to the “Kirmess,” which lasts six weekseach summer.

  “Like a cheap Coney Island,” was their verdict as, not much impressed,they sought a theater. Here they found that they might as well havesaved their money—almost their last—for nearly every act they saw wasAmerican.

  Early the next day they had to return to Antwerp, tired out but happyfrom sight-seeing and conscious of exceedingly light pockets.

  “Anyhow, we’ve had our money’s worth,” declared Jack.

  “Yes; both in adventure and sight-seeing,” added Raynor, as theyreturned to the ship.

  They found a warm invitation from the La Farge family awaiting them; buthad to decline it, with sincere regrets, for there were minor repairs tobe made on the wireless and, besides, Raynor was on duty in the fireroom.

  The next day the _Ajax_ was ready for sea. She was to sail “in ballast,”that is, without cargo. Jack thought her uglier than ever as she lay atthe dock with steam up, as a white plume from her scape pipe testified,and with big patches of rust on her black sides; for the work ofrepairing these ugly patches would not be done till a few days beforeshe arrived in New York.

  Now that she was so high out of the water, the “tanker” looked like abig black cigar with a miniature turret on either end.

  “She�
��ll roll like a bottle going over,” the crew prophesied; a prophesy,by the way, which was to be fulfilled.

  But Jack forgot all this when at last the orders to sail came from theagent’s office and, with a roaring of the whistle, the “tanker” startedon the voyage home.

  Raynor came up to Jack as he stood gazing down at the puffing tugs whichwere helping the marine monster clear.

  “Glad to be going home, Jack?” he asked.

  “What a question! Glad? I should say so! Of course I love my work andall that, but after all there’s no place like home, you know.”

  “That’s so,” assented Raynor, “although I haven’t much of a home. Bothmy parents died when I was a kid, and except for a sister who lives wayup New York state, I haven’t a relative in the world that I know of.”

  “I am almost as badly off,” confessed Jack, and he went on to tellRaynor about his home life.

  “What a jolly way to live,” cried the young engineer, “on aflower-garden schooner! That’s the greatest ever!”

  “I didn’t think so all the time, I can assure you,” said Jack with alaugh, “but I guess the wireless I rigged up there made me think of thisway of life.”

  The ship was in the stream by this time and it was Raynor’s turn onwatch. As he dived below, he took occasion to turn and grin at Jack.

  “We ought to make a good run home,” said he.

  “How is that?” asked Jack innocently.

  “Oh, maybe a certain young lady has hold of the tow rope,” and, beforeJack could reply, he had dived below.