Tom Swift and his Wireless Message

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TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE
OR
THE CASTAWAYS OF EARTHQUAKE ISLAND

BY VICTOR APPLETON

AUTHOR OF "TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE," "TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR
BOAT," "TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP," "TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE
BOAT," "TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

BOOKS BY VICTOR APPLETON

THE TOM SWIFT SERIES

TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE
Or Fun and Adventures on the Road

TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-BOAT
Or the Rivals of Lake Carlopa

TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP
Or the Stirring Cruise of the Red Cloud

TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT
Or Under the Ocean for Sunken Treasure

TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT
Or the Speediest Car on the Road

TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE
Or the Castaways of Earthquake Island

TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS
Or the Secret of Phantom Mountain

TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE
Or the Wreck of the Airship

TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER
Or the Quickest Flight on Record

TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE
Or Daring Adventures in Elephant Land

(Other Volumes in Preparation)

TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE

CONTENTS

I. AN APPEAL FOR AID
II. MISS NESTOR'S NEWS
III. TOM KNOCKS OUT ANDY
IV. MR. DAMOM WILL GO ALONG
V. VOL-PLANING TO EARTH
VI. THE NEW AIRSHIP
VII. MAKING SOME CHANGES
VIII. ANDY FOGER'S REVENGE
IX. THE WHIZZER FLIES
X. OVER THE OCEAN
XI. A NIGHT OF TERROR
XII. A DOWNWARD GLIDE
XIII. ON EARTHQUAKE ISLAND
XIV. A NIGHT IN CAMP
XV. THE OTHER CASTAWAY
XVI. AN ALARMING THEORY
XVII. A MIGHTY SHOCK
XVIII. MR. JENKS HAS DIAMONDS
XIX. SECRET OPERATIONS
XX. THE WIRELESS PLANT
XXI. MESSAGES INTO SPACE
XXII. ANXIOUS DAYS
XXIII. A REPLY IN THE DARK
XXIV. "WE ARE LOST!"
XXV. THE RESCUE-CONCLUSION

CHAPTER I

AN APPEAL FOR AID

Tom Swift stepped from the door of the machine shop, where he was at
work making some adjustments to the motor of his airship, and
glanced down the road. He saw a cloud of dust, which effectually
concealed whatever was causing it.

"Some one must be in a hurry this morning," the lad remarked, "Looks
like a motor speeding along. MY! but we certainly do need rain," he
added, as he looked up toward the sky. "It's very dusty. Well, I may
as well get back to work. I'll take the airship out for a flight
this afternoon, if the wind dies down a bit."

The young inventor, for Tom Swift himself had built the airship, as
well as several other crafts for swift locomotion, turned to re-
enter the shop.

Something about the approaching cloud of dust, however, held his
attention. He glanced more intently at it.

"If it's an automobile coming along," he murmured, "it's moving very
slowly, to make so much fuss. And I never saw a motor-cycle that
would kick up as much sand, and not speed along more. It ought to be
here by now. I wonder what it can be?"

The cloud of highway dirt rolled along, making some progress toward
Tom's house and the group of shops and other buildings surrounding
it. But, as the lad had said, the dust did not move at all quickly
in comparison to any of the speedy machines that might be causing
it. And the cloud seemed momentarily to grow thicker and thicker.

"I wonder if it could be a miniature tornado, or a cyclone or
whirlwind?" and Tom spoke aloud, a habit of his when he was
thinking, and had no one to talk to. "Yet it can hardly be that." he
went on. "Guess I'll watch and see what it is."

Nearer and nearer came the dust cloud. Tom peered anxiously ahead, a
puzzled look on his face. A few seconds later there came from the
midst of the obscuring cloud a voice, exclaiming:

"G'lang there now, Boomerang! Keep to' feet a-movin' an' we sho'
will make a record. 'Tain't laik we was a autermobiler, er a
electricity car, but we sho' hab been goin' sence we started. Yo'
sho' done yo'se'f proud t'day, Boomerang, an' I'se gwine t' keep mah
promise an' gib yo' de bestest oats I kin find. Ah reckon Massa Tom
Swift will done say we brought dis yeah message t' him as quick as
anybody could."

Then there followed the sound of hoofbeats on the dusty road, and
the rattle of some many-jointed vehicle, with loose springs and
looser wheels.

"Eradicate Sampson!" exclaimed Tom. "But who would ever think that
the colored man's mule could get up such speed as that cloud of dust
indicates. His mule's feet must be working overtime, but he goes
backward about as often as he moves forward. That accounts for it.
There's lots of dust, but not much motion."

Once more, from the midst of the ball-like cloud of dirt came the
voice of the colored man:

"Now behave yo'se'f, Boomerang. We'm almost dere an' den yo' kin sit
down an' rest if yo' laik. Jest keep it up a little longer, an'
we'll gib Massa Tom his telephone. G'lang now, Boomerang."

The tattoo of hoofbeats was slowing up now, and the cloud of dust
was not so heavy. It was gradually blowing away. Tom Swift walked
down to the fence that separated the house, grounds and shops from
the road. As he got there the sounds of the mule's progress, and the
rattle of the wagon, suddenly ceased.

"G'lang! G'lang! Don't yo' dare t' stop now, when we am most dere!"
cried Eradicate Sampson. "Keep a-movin', Boomerang!"

"It's all right, Eradicate. I'm here," called Tom, and when the last
of the dust had blown away, the lad waved his hand to an aged
colored man, who sat upon the seat of perhaps the most dilapidated
wagon that was ever dignified by such a name. It was held together
with bits of wire, rope and strings, and each of the four wheels
leaned out at a different angle. It was drawn by a big mule, whose
bones seemed protruding through his skin, but that fact evidently
worried him but little, for now the animal was placidly sleeping,
while standing up, his long ears moving slowly to and fro.

"Am dat yo', Massa Tom?" asked Eradicate, ceasing his task of
jerking on the lines, to which operation the mule paid not the least
attention.

"Yes, I'm here, Rad," replied Tom, smiling. "I came out of my shop
to see what all the excitement was about. How did you ever get your
mule to make so much dust?"

"I done promise him an extra helpin' ob oats ef he make good time,"
said the colored man. "An' he done it, too. Did yo' see de dust we
made?"

"I sure did, but you didn't do much else. And you didn't make very
good time. I watched you, and you came along like an ice wagon after
a day's work on the Fourth of July. You were going fast, but moving
slow."

"I 'spects we was, Massa Tom," was the colored man's answer. "But
Boomerang done better dan I 'spected he would. I done tole him yo'd
be in a hurry t' git yo' telephone, an' he sho' did trot along."

"My telephone?" repeated Tom, wonderingly. "What have you and your
mule Boomerang to do with my telephone? That's up in the house."

"No, it ain't! it's right yeah in mah pocket," chuckled Eradicate,
opening a ragged coat, and reaching for something. "I got yo'
telephone right yeah." he went on. "De agent at de station see me
dribin' ober dis way, an' he done ast he t' deliber it. He said as
how he ain't got no messenger boy now, 'cause de one he done hab
went on a strike fo' five cents mo' a day. So I done took de
telephone," and with that the colored man pulled out a crumpled
yellow envelope.

"Oh, you mean a telegram," said Tom, with a laugh, as he took the
message from the odd colored man.

"Well, maybe it's telegraf, but I done understood de agent t' say
telephone. Anyhow, dere it is. An' I s'pects we'd better git along,
Boomerang."

The mule never moved, though Eradicate yanked on the reins, and used
a splintered whip with energy.

"I said as how we'd better git along, Boomerang," went on the
darkey, raising his voice, "Dinnah am mos' ready, an' I'm goin' t'
giv yo' an extra helpin' ob oats."

The effect of these words seemed magical. The mule suddenly came to
life, and was about to start off.

"I done thought dat would cotch yo', Boomerang," chuckled Eradicate.

"Wait a minute, Rad," called Tom, who was tearing open the envelope
of the telegram. "I might want to send an answer back by you. I
wonder who is wiring me now?"

He read the message slowly, and Eradicate remarked:

"'Taint no kind ob use, Massa Tom, fo' t' send a message back wif
me."

"Why not?" asked the young inventor, looking up from the sheet of
yellow paper.

"'Case as how I done promised Boomerang his airman, an' he won't do
nothin' till he has it. Ef I started him back t' town now he would
jest lay down in de road. I'll take de answer back fo' you dis
arternoon."

"All right, perhaps that will do," assented Tom. "I haven't quite
got the hang of this yet. Drop around this afternoon, Rad," and as
the colored man, who, with his mule Boomerang, did odd jobs around
the village, started off down the highway, in another cloud of dust,
Tom Swift resumed the reading of the message.

"Hum, this is rather queer," he mused, when having read it once, he
began at it again. "It must have cost him something to send all this
over the wire. He could just as well have written it. So he wants my
help, eh? Well, I never heard of him, and he may be all right, but I
had other plans, and I don't know whether I can spare the time to go
to Philadelphia or not. I'll have to think it over. An electric
airship, eh? He's sort of following along the lines of my
inventions. Wants my aid--hum--well, I don't know--"

Tom's musings were suddenly cut short by the approach of an elderly
gentleman, who was walking slowly down the path that led from the
house to the country highway which ran in front of it.

"A telegram, Tom?" asked the newcomer.

"Yes, dad," was the reply. "I was just coming in to ask your advice
about it. Eradicate brought it to me."

"What, with his mule, Boomerang?" and the gentleman seemed much
amused. "How did he ever get up speed enough to deliver a telegram?"

"Oh, Eradicate has some special means he uses on his mule when he's
in a hurry. But listen to this message, dad. It's from a Mr. Hosmer
Fenwick, of Philadelphia. He says:"

"'Tom Swift--Can you come on to Philadelphia at once and aid me in
perfecting my new electric airship? I want to get it ready for a
flight before some government experts who have promised to purchase
several if it works well. I am in trouble, and I can't get it to
rise off the ground. I need help. I have heard about your airship,
and the other inventions you and your father have perfected, and I
am sure you can aid me. I am stuck. Can you hurry to the Quaker
City? I will pay you well. Answer at once!'"

"Well?" remarked Mr. Swift, questioningly, as his son finished
reading the telegram. "What are you going to do about it, Tom?"

"I don't exactly know, dad. I was going to ask your advice. What
would you do? Who is this Mr. Fenwick?"

"Well, he is an inventor of some note, but he has had many failures.
I have not heard of him in some years until now. He is a gentleman
of wealth, and can he relied upon to do just as he says. We are
slightly acquainted. Perhaps it would be well to aid him, if you can
spare the time. Not that you need the money, but inventors should be
mutually helpful. If you feel like going to Philadelphia, and aiding
him in getting his electric airship in shape, you have my
permission."

"I don't know," answered Tom, doubtfully. "I was just getting my
monoplane in shape for a little flight. It was nothing particular,
though. Dad, I think I WILL take a run to Philadelphia, and see if I
can help Mr. Fenwick. I'll wire him that I am coming, to-morrow or
next day."

"Very well," assented Mr. Swift, and then he and his son went into
one of the shops, talking of a new invention which they were about
to patent.

Tom little knew what a strange series of adventures were to follow
his decision to go to the Quaker City, nor the danger involved in
aiding Mr. Fenwick to operate his electric airship.

CHAPTER II

MISS NESTOR'S NEWS

"When do you think you will go to Philadelphia, Tom?" asked Mr.
Swift, a little later, as the aged inventor and his son were looking
over some blueprints which Garret Jackson, an engineer employed by
them, had spread out on a table.

"I don't exactly know," was the answer. "It's quite a little run
from Shopton, because I can't get a through train. But I think I'll
start tomorrow."

"Why do you go by train?" asked Mr. Jackson.

"Why--er--because--" was Tom's rather hesitating reply. "How else
would I go?"

"Your monoplane would be a good deal quicker, and you wouldn't have
to change cars," said the engineer. "That is if you don't want to
take out the big airship. Why don't you go in the monoplane?"

"By Jove! I believe I will!" exclaimed Tom. "I never thought of
that, though it's a wonder I didn't. I'll not take the RED CLOUD, as
she's too hard to handle alone. But the BUTTERFLY will be just the
thing," and Tom looked over to where a new monoplane rested on the
three bicycle wheels which formed part of its landing frame. "I
haven't had it out since I mended the left wing tip," he went on,
"and it will also be a good chance to test my new rudder. I believe
I WILL go to Philadelphia by the BUTTERFLY."

"Well, as long as that's settled, suppose you give us your views on
this new form of storage battery," suggested Mr. Swift, with a fond
glance at his son, for Tom's opinion was considered valuable in
matters electrical, as those of you, who have read the previous
books in this series, well know.

The little group in the machine shop was soon deep in the discussion
of ohms, amperes, volts and currents, and, for a time, Tom almost
forgot the message calling him to Philadelphia.

Taking advantage of the momentary lull in the activities of the
young inventor, I will tell my readers something about him, so that
those who have no previous introduction to him may feel that he is a
friend.

Tom Swift lived with his father, Barton Swift, a widower, in the
village of Shopton, New York. There was also in the household Mrs.
Baggert, the aged housekeeper, who looked after Tom almost like a
mother. Garret Jackson, an engineer and general helper, also lived
with the Swifts.

Eradicate Sampson might also be called a retainer of the family, for
though the aged colored man and his mule Boomerang did odd work
about the village, they were more often employed by Tom and his
father than by any one else. Eradicate was so called because, as he
said, he "eradicated" the dirt. He did whitewashing, made gardens,
and did anything else that was needed. Boomerang was thus named by
his owner, because, as Eradicate said, "yo' nebber know jest what
dat mule am goin' t' do next. He may go forward or he may go
backward, jest laik them Australian boomerangs."

There was another valued friend of the family, Wakeneld Damon by
name, to whom the reader will be introduced in due course. And then
there was Mary Nestor, about whom I prefer to let Tom tell you
himself, for he might be jealous if I talked too much about her.

In the first book of this series, called "Tom Swift and His Motor-
Cycle," there was told how he became possessed of the machine, after
it had nearly killed Mr. Damon, who was learning to ride it. Mr.
Damon, who had a habit of "blessing" everything from his collar
button to his shoe laces, did not "bless" the motor-cycle after it
tried to climb a tree with him; and he sold it to Tom very cheaply.
Tom repaired it, invented some new attachments for it, and had a
number of adventures on it. Not the least of these was trailing
after a gang of scoundrels who tried to get possession of a valuable
patent model belonging to Mr. Swift.

Our second book, called "Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat," related some
exciting times following the acquisition by the young inventor of a
speedy craft which the thieves of the patent model had stolen. In
the boat Tom raced with Andy Foger, a town bully, and beat him. Tom
also took out on pleasure trips his chum, Ned Newton, who worked in
a Shopton bank, and the two had fine times together. Need I also say
that Mary Nestor also had trips in the motor-boat? Besides some other
stirring adventures in his speedy craft Tom rescued, from a burning
balloon that fell into the lake, the aeronaut, John Sharp. Later Mr.
Sharp and Tom built an airship, called the RED CLOUD, in which they
had some strenuous times.

Their adventures in this craft of the air form the basis for the
third book of the series, entitled "Tom Swift and His Airship." In
the RED CLOUD, Tom and his friends, including Mr. Damon, started to
make a record flight. They left Shopton the night when the bank
vault was blown open, and seventy-five thousand dollars stolen.

Because of evidence given by Andy Foger, and his father, suspicion
pointed to Tom and his friends as the robbers, and they were
pursued. But they turned the tables by capturing the real burglars,
and defeating the mean plans of the Fogers.

Not satisfied with having mastered the air Tom and his father turned
their attention to the water. Mr. Swift perfected a new type of
craft, and in the fourth book of the series, called "Tom Swift and
His Submarine," you may read how he went after a sunken treasure.
The party had many adventures, and were in no little danger from
their enemies before they reached the wreck with its store of gold.

The fifth book of the series, named "Tom Swift and His Electrical
Runabout," told how Tom built the speediest car on the road, and won
a prize with it, and also saved a bank from ruin.

Tom had to struggle against odds, not only in his inventive work,
but because of the meanness of jealous enemies, including Andy
Foger, who seemed to bear our hero a grudge of long standing. Even
though Tom had, more than once, thrashed Andy well, the bully was
always seeking a chance to play some mean trick on the young
inventor. Sometimes he succeeded, but more often the tables were
effectually turned.

It was now some time since Tom had won the prize in his electric car
and, in the meanwhile he had built himself a smaller airship, or,
rather, monoplane, named the BUTTERFLY. In it he made several
successful trips about the country, and gave exhibitions at numerous
aviation meets; once winning a valuable prize for an altitude
flight. In one trip he had met with a slight accident, and the
monoplane had only just been repaired after this when he received
the message summoning him to Philadelphia.

"Well, Tom," remarked his father that afternoon, "if you are going
to the Quaker City, to see Mr. Fenwick to-morrow, you'd, better be
getting ready. Have you wired him that you will come?"

"No, I haven't, dad," was the reply. "I'll get a message ready at
once, and when Eradicate comes back I'll have him take it to the
telegraph office."

"I wouldn't do that, Tom."

"Do what?"

"Trust it to Eradicate. He means all right, but there's no telling
when that mule of his may lie down in the road, and go to sleep.
Then your message won't get off, and Mr. Fenwick may be anxiously
waiting for it. I wouldn't like to offend him, for, though he and I
have not met in some years, yet I would be glad if you could do him
a favor. Why not take the message yourself?"

"Guess I will, dad. I'll run over to Mansburg in my electric car,
and send the message from there. It will go quicker, and, besides, I
want to get some piano wire to strengthen the wings of my
monoplane."

"All right, Tom, and when you telegraph to Mr. Fenwick, give him my
regards, and say that I hope his airship will be a success. So it's
an electric one, eh? I wonder how it works? But you can tell me when
you come back."

"I will, dad. Mr. Jackson, will you help me charge the batteries of
my car? I think they need replenishing. Then I'll get right along to
Mansburg."

Mansburg was a good-sized city some miles from the village of
Shopton, and Tom and his father had frequent business there.

The young inventor and the engineer soon had the electric car in
readiness for a swift run, for the charging of the batteries could
be done in much less than the time usual for such an operation,
owing to a new system perfected by Tom. The latter was soon speeding
along the road, wondering what sort of an airship Mr. Fenwick would
prove to have, and whether or not it could be made to fly.

"It's easy enough to build an airship," mused Tom, "but the
difficulty is to get them off the ground, and keep them there." He
knew, for there had been several failures with his monoplane before
it rose like a bird and sailed over the tree-tops.

The lad was just entering the town, and had turned around a corner,
twisting about to pass a milk wagon, when he suddenly saw, darting
out directly in the path of his car, a young lady.

"Look out!" yelled Tom, ringing his electric gong, at the same time
shutting off the current, and jamming on the powerful brakes.

There was a momentary scream of terror from the girl, and then, as
she looked at Tom, she exclaimed:

"Why, Tom Swift! What are you trying to do? Run me down?"

"Mary--Miss Nestor!" ejaculated our hero, in some confusion.

He had brought his car to a stop, and had thrown open the door,
alighting on the crossing, while a little knot of curious people
gathered about.

"I didn't see you," went on the lad. "I came from behind the milk
wagon, and--"

"It was my fault," Miss Nestor hastened to add. "I, too, was waiting
for the milk wagon to pass, and when it got out of my way, I darted
around the end of it, without looking to see if anything else was
coming. I should have been more careful, but I'm so excited that I
hardly know what I'm doing."

"Excited? What's the matter?" asked Tom, for he saw that his friend
was not her usual calm self. "Has anything happened, Mary?"

"Oh, I've such news to tell you!" she exclaimed.

"Then get in here, and we'll go on." advised Tom. "We are collecting
a crowd. Come and take a ride; that is if you have time."

"Of course I have," the girl said, with a little blush, which Tom
thought made her look all the prettier. "Then we can talk. But where
are you going?"

"To send a message to a gentleman in Philadelphia, saying that I
will help him out of some difficulties with his new electric
airship. I'm going to take a run down there in my monoplane,
BUTTERFLY, to-morrow, and--"

"My! to hear you tell it, one would think it wasn't any more to make
an airship flight than it was to go shopping," interrupted Mary, as
she entered the electric car, followed by Tom, who quickly sent the
vehicle down the street.

"Oh, I'm getting used to the upper air," he said. "But what is the
news you were to tell me?"

"Did you know mamma and papa had gone to the West Indies?" asked the
girl.

"No! I should say that WAS news. When did they go? I didn't know
they intended to make a trip."

"Neither did they; nor I, either. It was very sudden. They sailed
from New York yesterday. Mr. George Hosbrook, a business friend of
papa's, offered to take them on his steam yacht, RESOLUTE. He is
making a little pleasure trip, with a party of friends, and he
thought papa and mamma might like to go."

"He wired to them, they got ready in a rush, caught the express to
New York, and went off in such a hurry that I can hardly realize it
yet. I'm left all alone, and I'm in such trouble!"

"Well, I should say that was news," spoke Tom.

"Oh, you haven't heard the worst yet," went on Mary. "I don't call
the fact that papa and mamma went off so suddenly much news. But the
cook just left unexpectedly, and I have invited a lot of girl
friends to come and stay with me, while mamma and papa are away; and
now what shall I do without a cook? I was on my way down to an
intelligence office, to get another servant, when you nearly ran me
down! Now, isn't that news?"

"I should say it was--two kinds," admitted Tom, with a smile. "Well,
I'll help you all I can. I'll take you to the intelligence office,
and if you can get a cook, by hook or by crook, I'll bundle her into
this car, and get her to your house before she can change her mind.
And so your people have gone to the West Indies?"

"Yes, and I wish I had the chance to go."

"So do I," spoke Tom, little realizing how soon his wish might be
granted. "But is there any particular intelligence office you wish
to visit?"

"There's not much choice," replied Mary Nestor, with a smile, "as
there's only one in town. Oh. I do hope I can get a cook! It would
be dreadful to have nothing to eat, after I'd asked the girls to
spend a month with me; wouldn't it?"

Tom agreed that it certainly would, and they soon after arrived at
the intelligence office.

CHAPTER III

TOM KNOCKS OUT ANDY

"Do you want me to come in and help you?" asked the young inventor,
of Miss Nestor.

"Do you know anything about hiring a cook?" she inquired, with an
arch smile.

"I'm afraid I don't," the lad was obliged to confess.

"Then I'm a little doubtful of your ability to help me. But I'm ever
so much obliged to you. I'll see if I can engage one. The cook who
just left went away because I asked her to make some apple
turnovers. Some of the girls who are coming are very fond of them."

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