The Radio Boys Under the Sea: or, The Hunt for Sunken Treasure. Duffield J. W.

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СКАЧАТЬ raised himself to a sitting position and the boys helped to settle him comfortably with his back to a tree.

      “I’m afraid I’m taking up your time and interfering with your plans,” he said apologetically, as he glanced from one to the other.

      “Not a bit of it,” Phil hastened to reassure him. “We’d just been on a fishing trip and were on our way home. We’ve got all the time there is, and we’re going to stick around until we see you safe to your home or hotel or wherever it is you want to go.”

      “That’s mighty good of you,” said the stranger gratefully. “I was figuring on staying at Castleton over night.”

      “That’s where we hail from,” replied Phil, “and as soon as you’ve rested a bit more we’ll harness up the horse and drive you over, I guess he’s had his fill of running away.”

      “The old pirate was sure full of ambition,” laughed Tom. “He tore along – ”

      He stopped suddenly, for at the word “pirate” the stranger had straightened up like a flash and clapped his hand convulsively to his breast.

      CHAPTER II

      BY LAND AND SEA

      The sudden movement of the stranger rather startled the boys and piqued their curiosity. They looked at him and at each other inquiringly.

      The man thrust his hand in the breast pocket of his coat and felt for something. That he had found it was evident from the look of profound relief that came into his face.

      “Think you had lost your pocketbook in your tumble?” asked Phil with a smile.

      “It wasn’t money I was thinking of,” was the reply. “Something that one of you said reminded me of some valuable papers that I had stowed away and that I wouldn’t lose for a good deal. But they’re just where I put them.

      “My introduction to you young fellows was rather sudden,” he went on, with a grin that displayed two rows of strong even teeth, “and this is about the first chance I’ve had to tell you what my name is and where I hail from. My name’s Jack Benton, and I am, or was up to about three weeks ago, a member of the United States Marine Corps.”

      The boys acknowledged the introduction and gave him their names in return.

      “So you’re a Marine,” remarked Phil with great interest. “That’s a branch of the service that has always appealed to me more than any other. There’s lots of adventure and you go everywhere and see everything.”

      “That’s putting it pretty strong,” laughed Benton, “but you’re not so far out of the way at that. I’ve been in the service for about eight years, and there’s scarcely a port of the world that I haven’t been in at some time or other. I’ve seen all sorts of people and been mixed up in all kinds of adventures. There’s plenty of hard work, but take it from me there’s very little monotony in the life of a marine. The soldiers’ work is on the land. The sailors’ is on the sea. But the marines do their work on both land and sea.”

      “The Marine Corps did great work in the war.” said Tom admiringly.

      “They weren’t so bad,” replied Benton modestly. “People say they did pretty good work at Chateau-Thierry, and they weren’t exactly absent when Belleau Wood was swept clear of the enemy. But then all our American boys did well in every branch of the service. Since the war things haven’t been quite so lively with the marines, though we haven’t had much chance to get rusty down in San Domingo. That’s where I’ve been for the last two years, and it was there that my term of service expired about three weeks ago. It’s only about a week since I landed in New York.”

      “You seem so fond of the service that after a little vacation I suppose you’ll re-enlist,” observed Dick.

      Benton hesitated, and almost unconsciously his hand again rested on his breast pocket.

      “I may and I may not,” he said slowly and with a touch of embarrassment. “The service, as I said, is full of adventure, and adventure is the breath of life to me. But just at present I’m planning an adventure on my own hook, the biggest one of my life – so big in fact that if I told you about it you might think I was crazy. I – I – ”

      And while with the keenest interest they stand listening for the expected disclosure, it may be well for the benefit of those who have not read the preceding volumes of this series to tell more fully who the boys were and what had been their adventures up to the time this story opens.

      Phil Strong was the son of the leading physician in Castleton, a thriving manufacturing town in the Middle West. Phil had been born and brought up there, and was a general favorite, especially with the young fellows of his own age. He was now in his nineteenth year, stalwart, six feet tall and as straight as an arrow, He was of fair complexion, brown-haired, and had merry blue eyes that could gleam with laughter or grow hard and cold as steel at anything or anyone that aroused his indignation. He was a leader in athletic sports and a tower of strength on his baseball nine and football eleven. He was straightforward, fearless and truthful, a steadfast friend and a formidable enemy.

      Dick Weston, his closest friend, was the son of the cashier of the Castleton bank. He was of about the same age as Phil, and from their earliest boyhood they had been the closest of chums. Dick was impulsive and oftener needed the brake than the spur. He had less initiative than Phil, but could always be depended on to back his friend to the limit. In any crisis requiring quick thinking, Phil acted like lightning, but Dick was usually a pretty close second.

      Tom Hadley hailed from Chicago, which he believed to be the only town on earth – a conviction he was always ready to assert and maintain. He was of a different type physically from the others, being rotund and stocky, while they were tall and athletic. He was full of jokes and fun, and nobody could be long depressed when Tom was one of the party.

      Another friend of all three was Steve Elwood, who at the time happened to be in New York, his native city. He felt about this very much as Tom did about Chicago, and arguments flew thick and fast when they got together. Steve was freckle-faced and red-headed, and had the hair-trigger temper that often goes with that combination. Like Kipling’s Fuzzy-Wuzzy, he was full of “’ot sand and ginger,” and it was advisable to give him a clear track when once he got started. With it all, he was frank and generous, and devotedly attached to the three friends, with whom he had shared many perils.

      A special link that drew the boys still closer together was their common interest in radio. That wonderful new science found no more fervent devotees than they. Almost all their spare moments were spent in increasing their knowledge of its countless marvels, and they had become expert in both receiving and sending. So absorbed did they become that they had gained the name of the “Radio Boys,” and soon it became a matter of course for Castleton folk to refer to them in that way when they were mentioned together. They saw the possibilities of the science, and worked at it not merely as a pastime, but because they had about decided to make it their lifelong profession.

      The boys were red-blooded, all-alive young Americans and full of love for adventure. How that zest led them into many perils; how by a curious combination of circumstances they found themselves embarked on the hazardous work of the Secret Service; how their work led them into the Everglades of Florida, where they encountered danger from beasts and reptiles and still more deadly criminals; how often they came within a hair’s breadth of death and yet finally came out triumphant – these things are told in the first volume of this series, entitled: “The Radio Boys in the Secret Service; or Running Down the Counterfeiters.”

      Shortly СКАЧАТЬ