CHAPTER VII--GRACE MORGAN
Tom stepped aside quickly as the chauffeur set the power, and themachine made a sharp jump. As it flashed around a curve bound townwardsMr. Morgan leaned over the back of the tonneau.
"I won't forget this, Barnes," he bawled loudly.
"Good for the wireless!" exclaimed Tom, with a genuine flush of delight.
He felt well satisfied with the exploit of the moment. He was flushed,bedraggled and exhausted, but there was the thrill of a big actionaccomplished and the utility of Station Z established.
Tom glanced longingly in the direction of Fernwood and then at hissoaked shoes, and shook his head dolefully.
"It won't do," he ruminated. "Grace is probably offended at me forbolting away so unceremoniously, and I'll wait until I can make myapologies in better trim."
Tom kept a patch of timber between himself and the Morgan place, andreached the beach road on a detour. He was summarily halted as he passedthe flight of steps leading up to the terrace. A silvery but peremptoryvoice called out:
"Stop there, Tom Barnes!"
Grace Morgan came tripping down the steps a minute later. There was apretty pout of pettishness on her winsome face, and her eyes did notlook altogether pleased.
"What do you mean by running away from me, sir?" she challenged, gainingthe side of Tom, and regarding him as if she was never going to forgivehim.
"Business is my only excuse," explained Tom meekly.
"You mean with my father?"
"Yes----"
"Did you overtake him?"
"I am glad to say I did," replied Tom, "and I think your father is,too."
"What was it about?"
Tom laughed evasively,
"You must ask him that yourself."
Miss Morgan looked mild daggers at Tom.
"I never met such rude, unfriendly boys!" she declared.
"Oh, there are more offenders than my poor humble self?" interrogatedTom archly.
"Yes, there are," declared the indignant miss. "Mart Walters has afriend from Boston visiting him--Bert Aldrich. He made an engagement tobe here an hour ago with his gasoline launch. Gentlemen keep theirengagements!" concluded Grace with emphasis.
Unconsciously Grace had walked along with Tom, much to his personalpleasure.
"Well, I'm glad," he observed.
"Glad of what?" demanded Miss Morgan suspiciously.
"Oh, everything," replied Tom bluntly, with a significance that causedGrace to blush. "As to my own transgression," he went on, "as I toldyou, I can't explain details, but I do not think your father would mindmy telling you that I brought him an important message from mywireless."
"Your wireless?" exclaimed Grace in a sprightly tone. "Oh, Tom, I heardabout that. Is it really true that you know how to telegraph all overthe world, and rescue sinking steamers, and catch fleeing criminals,and--and all that?"
Impetuous Miss Morgan had gone off in a rhapsody over the greatenthusiastic theme of Tom's mind, and he was truly delighted.
"Well, hardly," he said. "You see, I haven't reached that yet. It maycome--I hope it does. That's why I'm sticking to it."
"Can I come and see you do it?" implored Grace excitedly. "Can I comeinto the tower and watch the messages come in, and see everything?"
"I shall feel honored if you do," replied Tom proudly. "Ah, there'sanother of those shells."
Tom's foot had kicked up a pearly odd-shaped shell in the sand. Hestooped and secured it.
"Oh, how odd and beautiful!" cried Grace. "Oh, Tom, can I have it for mycollection? I haven't one like it."
"You certainly can," answered Tom gladly. "We call that the peach blow,and it's pretty rare. I didn't know you were interested in shells."
"I dote on them," declared Grace. "Oh, Tom!"
From his pocket he had taken a handful of exquisite specimens of starpebbles and shells he had gathered up within a week, and tendered themfor a choice to his pretty companion.
They strolled on for nearly half a mile. Tom explained that he must getback to the wireless station, but he could not resist lingering whenGrace sat down to rest on an upturned boat on the beach. She occupiedthe time between admiring the pretty shells he had given her andinquiring into the details of his work at the wireless tower. Tom was inthe midst of a description of some of the methods employed in sendingwireless messages, when he paused and glanced seawards.
"There is your friend, Grace," said Tom.
A natty gasoline launch was approaching the pier up-shore. Tom made outtwo passengers, both of whom he recognized. One was Mart Walters. Theother boatman was at the wheel. Tom had seen him twice on the street ofRockley Cove and knew who he was--young Aldrich, the friend about whomMart was so continually boasting.
Grace Morgan glanced in the direction of the pier. Then, as if totallyuninterested in what was going on there, she turned her back upon it andled an animated conversation with her companion. Tom kept facing thepier. From the launch Aldrich finally leaped ashore, evidently made themout, and leaving Mart in charge of the launch walked rapidly up thebeach.
"I think I had better be getting back to the tower," said Tom, as thenewcomer neared them,
"Don't be in a hurry, Tom," advised Grace, with a slightly malicioustwinkle in her eye. "Oh, you, Mr. Aldrich?" she added, arising with aformal bow to the young man, who, arrayed in fancy yachting costume, wasquite a "swell" sight, indeed.
She introduced them, but Mr. Aldrich was not inclined to make anyfriendly advances towards a boy in common working clothes. Hedeliberately turned his back on Tom, and began a conversation withGrace.
"Had we not better start out on our cruise?" he asked.
"Why, I had forgotten all about it, quite," declared the wilful miss,with an encouraging smile at Tom, which quite nettled the newcomer.
"The water is very smooth," observed young Aldrich. "I am sure you willenjoy it."
"I regret it very much," replied Grace, "but I was ready an hour ago. Itis my time for musical practice now, and you will have to excuse me.Don't hasten, Tom," she added, crossing over to Tom.
"I think I had better be getting back on duty at the wireless station,"said our hero.
"Wireless, eh?" young Aldrich condescended to observe at this juncture."In with that fad, eh?"
"I am trying to make something more than a fad out of it," replied Tompleasantly.
"Wire repairer or something of that sort?" intimated Bert Aldrich with asupercilious stare at Tom's working clothes.
"Indeed, no," flashed out Grace resentfully. "Tom is quite an expert,aren't you, Tom? He has been telling me the most delightful andfascinating things about the wireless. Oh, there is papa!"
There was an abrupt lull in the conversation as the Morgan automobilecame down the beach road from the direction of Rockley Cove. Mr. Morgangave the chauffeur the signal to stop and leaped from the machine in anexcited way.
The politic young Aldrich advanced to meet the capitalist, all smilesand ceremony. Mr. Morgan almost brushed him aside, not even noticing theextended hand.
He went straight up to Tom, and his eyes glowed with friendly interest.Mr. Morgan caught both of Tom's hands in his own and gave them a heartyshake.
"Barnes," he said, "I stopped to say just a word to you. I must get tothe city at once, but when I return I want you to come down to Fernwood.I have something important to say to you."
"Thank you, Mr. Morgan," bowed Tom courteously.
"You have saved me much of my fortune," declared the capitalist in atremulous, grateful tone. "How shall I ever repay you? Going up to thehouse, Grace?" he inquired of his daughter.
"Yes, papa, it is my practice hour."
With a bewitching smile for Tom and a crisp little nod to Bert Aldrichthe miss sprang airily into the car.
"Oh, Tom," she called back to the young wireless operator, as shemischievously noted the discomfited look on the face of young Aldrich,"I won't be like some people--I'll be on time to-morrow to have you showme all the wonders of tha
t delightful wireless tower of yours."