by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER FIVE
DANNY SHARES A SECRET
There was a glorious hour at sunset in every day of work when Sally wasfree to do as she chose. What she chose more often than not, in the daysthat followed, was to visit a certain radio lab in one of the school'sregular buildings. Here she found Danny waiting to help her with herproblems. She discovered at once that he did know a very great dealabout communication and about radio in particular.
When she complimented him on his knowledge he threw back his head andlaughed.
"It's no fault of mine," he exclaimed. "I've had it drilled into me fromthe very start. We're in the Navy. Don't forget that. Most of us will beon aircraft carriers. That means we'll be out over the sea in smallplanes."
"Alone?" Sally asked.
"Sometimes, sometimes not. You may have a radioman and may not. Anyway,he may get killed. So you have to know all about radio, blinking lights,waving flags, and a lot more.
"Say!" he laughed. "I could propose to a good signal girl in tendifferent ways."
"Wait till I get up on all the codes," Sally laughed.
"Oh, yes. Well, then, let's get busy."
He picked up a booklet entitled, "International Code" and; turning topage twelve, said:
"Morse code isn't half bad. See! Here it is." Sally looked over hisshoulder. "A is dot, dash; B is dash, dot, dot dot, and so on down theline. You can learn all that in about no time. But receiving takeslonger. Those birds send out messages like greased lightning. You've gotto think fast and be accurate at the same time. That's tough. But it'sabsolutely necessary, especially in your work. To read a message wrong,skip a dot here and miss a dash there, may sink a ship, or even a halfdozen ships."
"Oh!" Sally held her head. "That sounds serious!"
"It is. But see here, why do we waste a beautiful sunset hour on code?You'll get that in your next school anyway."
"Yes, I know, but I want it now. It," she hesitated, "it's not my secretalone so I can't tell you too much."
"You don't have to tell me anything," he replied with a generous smile.
"But I want to. That night when I fell off the roof I was running a wirefrom my room to the aerial on the roof. I've been working for a longtime with a dear old man who's a real genius. He invented a special kindof radio and he gave me two of them to try out."
"I see. That's what you're doing now. Did the outside aerial help?"
"Oh, yes, a whole lot. The 'put-puts' come in a whole lot moredistinctly."
"The what?" He stared.
"The 'put-puts'. That's what we call them. I suppose it's some specialform of code, but it's not like any I've ever heard on the short wavesection of our radio."
"I wish you'd tried to write it down," he said thoughtfully. "Perhapsthey have a secret code. They may substitute numbers for letters. See,here are the numbers in Morse Code. Dot, dash, dash, dot are for one,for two you add two dots and drop a dash-dot, dot, dash, dot. Three isdot, dot; dot, dash, dot, and so on."
"That doesn't sound too hard," interrupted Sally.
"It's simple. Take this book home and learn the numbers. Then listen toyour radio and try to write down the 'put-puts' in dots and dashes."
"I will if they are there tonight. Sometimes they're not there at alland sometimes there are a lot of them, five, six, or a dozen, alltalking to one another like frogs in a pond."
"Is that right!" He suddenly became excited. "Say, perhaps they are in apond, the big pond. Perhaps they are wolves instead of frogs."
"Wolves?"
"Sure, enemy subs, wolf-packs of them, you know. Wouldn't that be abreak?"
"I--yes, I suppose so."
"You suppose so! Say! You don't know the half of it! These wolf-packsare known to have some means of talking to one another under the water."
"They'd almost have to."
"Sure they would, but all the bright minds in Europe and America can'tfind out how they do it.
"But then," his voice dropped, "probably your 'put-puts' come from aflight of planes crossing to North Africa."
"Or from a convoy."
"Sure. We, too, have our secret methods of communication, but if yourold friend has invented a new one, they'll make him an admiral."
"It's up to me to prove it. That's why I'm so anxious about it."
"It is? Well, then, we'll really dig in. Try out my code idea. Thenwe'll meet again at sunset tomorrow."
"It's a date." She left the lab with a smile. Even if nothing came ofthis code idea she had made a grand friend and that was always worthwhile.
Late that evening while others wrote letters, read or slept, Sally gaveherself over once more to solving the riddle of the secret radio and its"put-puts." She had made very little progress when the signal soundedfor lights out.
"Oh, dear!" she sighed. "No day is ever long enough."
She had been in bed for a half hour but had not fallen asleep whensuddenly she caught a gleam of light from Barbara's bed.
"Barbara!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?"
The light blinked out and Barbara's head came out from beneath thecovers.
"I'm sorry!" Barbara whispered back. "These studies are so hard andthere are so many of them I never get caught up. So I've been studyingwith a flashlight under the covers. No one would know it but you."
"Such determination!" Sally exclaimed in a low voice. "You should have amedal or something. But you'll smother!"
"Oh, no!" Barbara laughed. "I'm like a seal. I come up for air."
"Anyway it's an idea," said Sally. Hopping out of bed, she gathered inher precious radio and, with a bed cover for a tent, studied the"put-puts" for another hour.
Barbara's Head Came Out From Beneath the Covers]
The close of that hour found her thoroughly disgusted. On a paper shehad made a few marks. When she had compared these to the code marks forletters and figures, they added up to exactly nothing.
"Terrible," she thought. "I know what I'll do. I'll take the radio overto the lab and show it to Danny. I'm sure he can be trusted. We'll workthings out together."
* * * * *
"What's that black box?" Danny asked, when she arrived next evening.
"That's my secret radio. I couldn't do a thing last night. I want you tohelp me."
"It's nice of you to trust me." He beamed. "People have said I wassimple but could be trusted. Only time will tell."
"Time doesn't need to tell me. I know it."
"Do you? Well, then that's fine. How do you open this black box?"
She snapped it open. "Oh! We need an aerial!"
"There's one on this building, much better than the one you've beenusing. There's a connection over in the corner."
In a few minutes the radio was ready to operate. Sally turned theswitches. Nothing came out, not a sound.
"What's up?" Danny asked.
"Those gremlins, subs, or whatever they are, are not always there."
"Turn the dial. Get something else. That will tell us whether ourconnections are okay."
"There's nothing else on the air for us."
"That's a queer radio."
"Yes, it is. But if we wait five minutes Station NANCY will be on theair."
"And in the meantime?"
"Tell me about parachutes," she begged. "You've dropped a time or two,haven't you?"
"Naturally. I'm a flier."
"How does it feel to drop for the first time?"
"Just fine if you think of something else most, of the time. It helps tosing:
"'He'd fly through the air with the greatest of ease, A daring young man on the flying trapeze.'
"But why all the interest in parachutes?"
"My roommate is going to be a parachute rigger."
"I hope she's a careful sort of lady. I saw a boy drop two thousand feetstraight down. His rigger had failed him."
"I'll rig my own." Sally's lips were a strai
ght line.
"Why should you go in for parachutes? But then--oh, yes--you go in forall sorts of falling." He laughed.
"No," she said, "I don't. I get dizzy. But I promised Barbara that I'dgo down with her it they asked her to try parachuting."
"You did! That takes courage!"
"Where's the war job that doesn't?"
"Oh, it's not so bad." He blew an imaginary smoke ring. "You just sit onthe edge of a hole until they give you the word. Then you look up, slidethrough the hole, and down you go. When the parachute is open it isreally swell, like dreams we have of flying just with our hands. Whenyou land you curl up like a sleepy kitten, roll on the ground, then getup."
"You make it sound so nice!"
"Why not?"
Sally turned a knob on the radio. She snapped on a headset and said:"Hello, are you there?" Then she listened.
"How do you get me?" she spoke into the mouthpiece again. "Good as ever?That's fine. This is Sally signing off.
"See!" She turned to Danny.
"Pete's sake! What wave-length do you use?"
"I don't know."
"What?"
"Only one person in the world knows that. He's the man who made it. Myold friend C. K. All I know is, it's very short. Watch!"
She snapped off the lights, then pulled down the shades. The radio'stubes glowed red.
"Say! A radio with its own private wave length is worth a fortune! Iknow a man high up in Communications. Let me show it to him."
"Not for worlds."
"You'll be rich and famous."
"No! No! Oh, I wish I hadn't brought it here. Can't you see that it wasloaned to me by a very dear friend and that he alone can release it?"
"Yes," he replied soberly. "I won't breathe a word about it until yougive me the sign."
"Thanks--oh, thanks!" she stammered. "You really had me worried."
"And now," he said, "how about having another try at the 'put-put' ofthe gremlins, or subs?"
For ten minutes more they sat there in the dark watching the red glow ofthe strange radio tubes but hearing just nothing at all.
Then, suddenly, it came, a low"put-put-put-put-a-put-put-put-put-a-put."
For a long time Danny sat there silently listening. "It's code, allright," he murmured once. "There's a sort of rhythm to it, just as thereis to all code."
"If you turn this dial," Sally whispered, "it will throw them out." Sheturned the dial. Silence followed, but not for long. Again came"put-put-put-a-put."
"They're back," he whispered.
"No, that's another one. Listen! You can tell the difference." Shebrought the first one back, then switched to the second.
"What do you know about that!" He was all ears.
"Perhaps the 'put' stands for dot, and 'put-a-put' for dash," hesuggested. "I'll just try it that way."
"Might be the opposite!"
"Sure, just anything." He snapped on a small light and then beganmarking down dots and dashes as he listened. For a long time neither ofthem spoke.
"That might be it," he breathed at last. "It's hard to take down, butI've got dot, dot, dot, dash, dot. That's three, dash, dash, dash forfive and dash, dash, dot, dot, for seven. Then there are some numbersthat seem like seventeen, twenty-three, and thirty-one. I can't besure--"
"Give me a pencil and paper," she suggested. "Let me play the game."
For a long time after that they listened and marked down dots anddashes. When one sender went off the air they switched to another. Intime they came to believe that number one and number two were holding aconversation. Then number two went off the air, followed by number one.
A little search found a third. When number three went dead, number onewas at it again. It became an interesting game of hide-and-go-seek, inthe air.
"Could it be one of our convoys?" Sally asked.
"Hardly that. They maintain radio silence, I'm told. But with such aradio, who knows? But if they are subs, a whole wolf-pack of them!" heexclaimed a moment later.
"And if we could spot them!"
"While we were on a ship, an aircraft carrier! Spot them some distanceaway and go after them with a dozen planes loaded with depth-bombs. I'lltell you what!" he exclaimed, becoming greatly excited. "I'll be readyto sail in a month or two, on an aircraft carrier. You get a radio jobon my ship. Then we'll really try this radio out."
"They're not sending WAVES on ships yet," she reminded.
"Oh! We'll manage it," he insisted, "We'll just have to."
"We may discover that we're mostly just duplicating one of Uncle Sam'ssecrets." Sally was cautious by nature. "These code signals may comefrom American ships or airplanes."
"Tell you what!" he exclaimed. "We've just got to de-code their messagesso we can tell what they say. Then we'll know. But that," he sighedheavily, "looks like a long, long job."
They pitched into that job once more and had been working for some timewhen he said: "By the way, did you have a class tonight?"
"Yes, from eight to nine."
"Never mind then, it's nine now."
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I must go! I'll get a black mark. Unhook my radioand let me go."
"There you are," he said a moment later, as he handed her the radio,"but you'll be back?"
"Oh! Sure! It's been exciting. Just think what it will mean if we reallydo something big with old C. K.'s radio."
"I have been thinking," he replied soberly. "Just keep trying, and mum'sthe word. We'll get there yet!"