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The Submarine Ear · The Adventuress

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  Chapter twenty one of The Adventuress by Arthur b Reeve. This LibriVox recording is
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  in the public domain. Read by Anne Fletcher, Chapter twenty one, the
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  submarine ear. Almost before we knew it, the speed Demon had disappeared beyond
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  the circle of the flares, suspiciously near the Sibbarite, remarked Kennedy under his
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  breath, watching the Scout Cruiser to the last moment as she ran away.
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  I wondered whether he meant that the swift little motor boat might have some connection
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  with Shelby Maddock's and his new activities. But I said nothing, for Kennedy's
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  attention was riveted on the wake left by the boat. I looked, too,
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  and could have sworn that there was something moving in the opposite direction to
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  that taken by the boat. What could it be? On the end of
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  the dock was an incandescent lamp. Craig unscrewed the bulb and inserted another connection
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  in the bulb socket and insulat cable that led down to the apparatus on the
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  float, over which his assistant was still working. By this time quite a
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  crowd had collected on the dock and on the float watching us, Burke ordered
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  Kennedy, will you and Jamison make the people stand back. We can't do
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  anything with so many around. As we pressed the newcomers back, I saw
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  that among them was Paquita. Though I looked I couldn't discover Sanchez, but
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  thought nothing of it, for there were so many about that it would have
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  been hard to find any particular person. If you will please stand back,
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  I implored, trying to keep the curious from almost swamping the float. You
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  will all be able to see what's going on just as well, And besides,
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  it will be a great deal safer providing there's an explosion, I added,
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  as a happy afterthought. Although I had almost as vague an idea what
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  Kennedy was up to as any of them, the words had the effect I
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  in the crowd gave way, not only willingly but almost in panic. As
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  they pressed back. However, Paquita pressed forward until she was standing beside me.
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  Is mister Maddox out there? She asked, pointing out at the Sibarite
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  anxiously, why I demanded, hoping in her anxiety to catch her off guard.
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  She shot a quick glance at me. There was no denying that the
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  woman was clever, hand quick of perception. Oh, I just wondered.
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  She murmured, I wanted to see him so much, that is all,
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  and is very urgent. She glanced about as though hoping to discover some means
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  of communicating with the yacht, even of getting out to it, But there
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  did not seem to be any offered. I determined to watch her, and
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  for that reason did not insist that she get back as far as the rest
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  of the crowd. All the time I saw that she was looking constantly out
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  at the Sybarite. Did she know something about Shelby Maddox that we did not
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  know? I wondered, if indeed there might be some valid reason why she
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  should get out there, What did she suspect? Again she came forward,
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  inquiring whether there was not some way of communicating with the Sybarite, And again
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  when I tried to question her, she refused to give me any satisfaction.
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  However, I could not help noticing that, in spite of the cold manner
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  in which Shelby had treated her, she seemed now to be actuated more by
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  the most intense fear for him than by any malice against him. What it
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  meant I had the greatest curiosity to know, especially when I noticed that Paquita
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  was glancing nervously about, as though in great fear that some one might be
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  present and see her. Nor did she seem to be deterred from showing her
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  feelings by the fact that she knew that I, Kennedy's close as friend,
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  was watching and would undoubtedly report to him. It was as though she had
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  abandoned discretion and cast fear to the winds. As the minutes passed and nothing
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  happened, Pequita became a trifle calmer and managed to take refuge in the crowd.
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  I took the opportunity again to run my eye over them. Nowhere in
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  the crowd could I discover Winnifred, or in fact, any of the Maddock's
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  family. They seemed to be studiously avoiding appearance in public just now, and
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  I could not blame them for In a summer colony like that at Westport,
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  facts never troubled gossipers. What do you suppose Kennedy's afraid of? Whispered hastings
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  in my ear nervously? Your friend is positively uncanny, and I can almost
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  feel that he fears something. I'm sure I don't know, I confessed,
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  but I've seen enough of him to be sure that no one is going to
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  catch him napping. Here's Riley, perhaps he has some news. The Secret
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  Service operative had showed it his way through the throng looking for Burke, who
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  was right behind me. What's the matter, demanded his chief. There's another
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  message by telephone from the Seaville station, Riley reported. They say they're having
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  the same trouble again, only more of it. That opperate of steel came
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  back again, considered Burke. Where is he? As soon as I got
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  the message, I hunted him up and took the liberty of sending him up
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  to mister Kennedy's room to look at that arrangement there. I couldn't make anything
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  out of it myself, I knew, and I thought that he could and
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  did, he inquired Burke. Yes, of course he hadn't seen it work
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  before. But I told him as nearly as I could what you told me,
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  and it didn't take him very long to catch answer the thing. After
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  that, he said that what was being recorded now must be just the same
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  as it had been before when mister Kennedy was there. Not messages, but
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  just impulses. Where is he down here? No, I left him up
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  there. I thought it might be best to have some one there. And
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  did you want to speak to him. There's a telephone down here in the
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  boat house, up to the switchboard at the lodge. Riley jerked his thumb
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  back over his shoulder as a little shelter built on the end of the dock.
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  No, considered Burke, I wouldn't know what to tell him, but
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  I think you ought to tell Kennedy that, I interrupted, He might know
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  what to do. Together. Riley and I walked across the float to where
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  Craig was at work, and briefly I told him what had happened. He
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  looked grave, but did not pause in his adjustment of the machine. Whatever
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  it was, that's all right, he approved. Yes, get the operator
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  on the wire tell him to stay up there, and yes, tell him
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  to detach that fur agraph recording device and go back to straight wireless. He
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  might try to wake up the operator on the cyberite if he can. I
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  guess he must know the call. Have him do that, and then have
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  that telephone girl keep the line clear and connected from the boat house up to
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  my room. I want to keep in touch with steel. Riley and I
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  pushed through the crowd and finally managed to deliver Kennedy's message, in spite of
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  the excitement at the lodge, which had extended by this time, to the
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  switchboard operator. I left Riley in the boat house to hold the wire up
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  to our room and rejoined Burke and Hastings on the float. Kennedy had been
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  working with redoubled energy. Now that the light bombs had gone out after serving
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  their purpose, we stood apart now as he made a final inspection of the
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  apparatus which he and his assistant had installed. Finally, Craig pressed down a
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  key which seemed to close a circuit, including the connection in the electric light
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  socket and the arrangement that had been let over the edge of the float.
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  Standing where we were, we could feel a sort of dull, metallic vibration
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  under our feet as it were. What are you doing, inquired Hastings,
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  looking curiously at a head gear which Kennedy had over his ears. It works,
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  exclaimed Craig, more to Watkins than to us. What does persisted Hastings.
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  This phasened and oscillator, He cried, apparently for the first time,
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  recognizing that Hastings had been addressing him. What is it, we asked,
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  crowding about What does it do. It's a system for the employment of sound
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  for submarine signals, he explained hurriedly. I am using it to detect moving
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  objects in the water under the water. Perhaps it's really a submarine ear In
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  our excitement, we could only watch him in wonder. People don't rear lies
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  the great advance that's been made in the use of water instead of air as
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  a medium for transmitting sounds, he continued, after a pause during which he
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  seemed to be listening, observing a stopwatch, and figuring rapidly on a piece
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  of paper all at once. I can't stop to explain this apparatus, but
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  roughly, it's composed of a ring magnet, a copper tube which lies in
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  an air gap of a magnetic field, and a stationary central armature. The
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  magnetic field is much stronger than that in an ordinary dynamo of this size.
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  Again, he listened as he pressed the key, and we felt the peculiar
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  vibration while he figured on the paper the copper tube he resumed mechanically to us,
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  though his real attention was on something else. Has an alternating current induced
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  in it. It's attached to solid disks of steel, which in turn are
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  attached to a steel diaphragm. An inch thick. Surrounding the oscillator is a
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  large water tight drum. Then it makes use of sound waves in the water,
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  queried Hastings, almost incredulously. Exactly, returned Craig, I use the
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  same instrument for sending and receiving, only I'm not doing any real sending.
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  You see, like the ordinary electric motor, it is capable of acting as
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  a generator too, and a very efficient one. All I have to do
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  is throw a switch in one direction when I want to telegraph or telephone under
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  water, and in the other direction when I want to listen talking through water,
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  exclaimed Burke, all struck by the very idea, as though it were
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  scarcely believable. That's not exactly what I'm doing now, returned Kennedy indulgently.
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  Although I could do it if there was any one around this part of the
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  country equipped to receive and reply a I rather suspect though, that whoever it
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  is, is not only not equipped, but wouldn't want to reply anyhow.
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  Then what are you doing? Asked Berke, Rather mystified. Well, you
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  see, I can send out signals and listen for their reflection. Really the
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  echo under water. More than that, I can get the sounds direct from
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  any source that is making them. If there was a big steamer out there,
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  I could hear her engines and propellers, even if I couldn't see her
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  around the point. Light travels in straight lines, but you can get sounds
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  around a corner as it were. Oh, I exclaimed, I think I
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  see. Even if that little scout cruiser did disappear around the point, you
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  can still hear her through the water. Is that it partly nodded Kennedy.
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  You know, sound travels through water at a velocity of about four four thousand
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  feet a second. For instance, I find I can get an echo from
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  somewhere practically instantaneously. That's the bottom of the bay. Here. Another echo
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  comes back to me in about the twentieth of a second that I take.
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  It is reflected from the sea wall on the shore back of us at high
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  tide. It must be roughly a hundred feet you see. That corresponds.
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  It is a matter of calculation. Is that all? I prompted, as
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  he paused again, No, I've located the echo from the sybarite and some
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  others, but he added slowly, there's one I can't account for. There's
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  a sound that is coming to me direct from somewhere. I can't just place
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  it, for there isn't a moving craft visible, and it doesn't give the
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  same note as that little cruiser. It's sharper. Just now. I tried
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  to send out my own impulses in hope of getting an echo from it,
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  and I succeeded. The echo comes back to me in something more than five
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  seconds. You see, that would make twenty thousand odd feet half that would
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  be nearly two miles, and that roughly corresponds with the position where we saw
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  the Scout cruiser at first, before it fled. There's something out there.
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  Then I was right, I exclaimed excitedly. I thought I saw something in
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  the wake of the cruiser. Kennedy shook his head gravely. I'm afraid you
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  were, he muttered. There's something there, all right. That wireless operator
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  is up in our room, and you have a wire from the boat house
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  to him. Yes, I returned Riley's holding it open anxiously. Kennedy listened
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  again in silence, as though to verify some growing suspicion. What was it?
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  He heard? Quickly, he pulled the head gear off, and before
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  I knew it, had clapped it on my own head. Tell me what
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  it sounds like, he asked, tensely. I listened eagerly. Though I
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  was no electrical or mechanical engineer, and such things were usually to me a
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  sealed book. Still I was able to describe a peculiar metallic throbbing record.
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  The time for the echo from it, ordered Kennedy, thrusting the stop watch
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  into my hands, press it the instant you hear the return sound after I
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  pushed down the key. I want to be sure of it and eliminate my
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  own personal equation from the calculation. Are you ready? I nodded, and
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  an instant later, as he noted the time I heard through the oscillator the
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  peculiar vibration I had felt when the key was depressed on the key of Eve.
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  I waited for the return echo. Sure enough, there it was,
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  and I mechanically registered it on the watch. Five and thirty hundred seconds,
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  muttered Kennedy. I had five and third five hundreds. It's coming nearer.
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  You hear the sound direct again, I did just a trifle more distinctly,
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  and I said so confirmed in his own judgment. Craig hastily turned to the
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  student. Run up there to the boat house. He directed, have Riley
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  call that wireless operator on the telephone and tell him to get the Sybarite on
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  the wireless. If he hasn't done it already, then have him tell them
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  not to try to move the yacht under any circumstance, but for God's sake,
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  to get off it themselves as quick as they can. What's the matter,
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  I asked, breathlessly, what was that humming in the oscillator? The
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  wireless destroyer, the tell automaton model has been launched full at the Sybarite,
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  Craig exclaimed. You remember it was large enough, even if it was only
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  a model, to destroy a good sized craft if it carried a charge of
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  high explosive. It has been launched and is being directed from that vast cruiser
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  back of the point. We looked at one another aghast. What could we
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  do? There was a sickening feeling of helplessness in the face of this new
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  terror of the seas. It it has really been launched, cried an agitative
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  voice of a girl. Behind us. Paquita had pushed her way altogether through
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  the crowd while we were engrossed in listening through the submarine ear She had heard
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  what Kennedy had just said, and now stood before us, staring wildly.
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  Ah, she cried, frantically, clasping her hands. Isn't there anything anything
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  that can stop it, that can save him? She was not acting now.
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  There could be no doubt of the genuineness of her anxiety, nor of
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  whom the hymn meant. I wondered whether she might have been directly or indirectly
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  responsible, whether she was not now repentant for whatever part she had played,
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  At least she must be as far as Shelby Maddock's was involved. Then I
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  recollected the black looks that Sanchez had given Shelby earlier in the evening. Was
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  jealousy playing a part as well as cupidity. Kennedy had been busy while the
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  rest of us had been standing stunned. Suddenly another light bomb ricocheted over the
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  water. Keep on sending them one by one, he ordered the student who
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  had returned. We'll need all the light we can get over the shadowy waves.
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  We could now see the fine line of foam left by the destroyer as
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  it shot a head swiftly. Events were now moving faster than I can tell
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  them. Kennedy glanced about. On the opposite side of the float. Some
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  one of the visitors from the cottages to the dance at the casino had left
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  a trim hard wood speed boat. Without waiting to inquire whose it was,
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  Craig leaped into it and spun the engine. The submarine ear has warned us,
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  he shouted, beckoning to Burke and myself. Even if we cannot save
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  the yacht, we may save their lives. Come on. We were off
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  in an instant, and the race was on. One of the most exciting
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  I have ever been in a race between this speedy motor boat and a telautomatic
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  torpedo to see which might get to the yacht first. Though we knew that
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  the Tell automaton had had such a start before it was discovered that we could
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  not beat it, still there was always the hope that its mechanism might slow
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  down or break down. Failing to get there first, there was always a
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  chance of our being in at the rescue. In the penetrating light of the
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  flare bombs as we approached closer the spot in which Watkins was now dropping them
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  regularly, we could see the tele automaton speeding ahead on its mission of death,
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  its wake like the path of a great man eating fish. What would
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  happen if it struck? I could well imagine each of us did what he
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  could to speed the motor, for this was a race with the most terrible
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  engine yet devised by American inventive G. G. Peneus, end of Chapter
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  twenty one,