THE RUSE OF THE CABLE.

Feilding Star, Volume VI, Issue 1819, 15 June 1912, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE RUSE OF THE CABLE.

Sir George Wishart walked quietly o\it of his club.

"Waterloo, at your best speed, Simpson," ordered, as he stepped into the waiting motor car.

Tdic great finanier lolled back upon 'oho magnificent cushions and puffed calmly at ; his cigar, as the chaufffeui steered his way swiftly through *he London : traffic. . But 'under that placid exterior, Sir George was a prey to his emotions.

■He had misappropriated funds entrusted to his care, and the rightful owners were demanding an account of his stewardship.

Into Waterloo he was whirled jtwrt in time to catch the last train to Southampton that night, the 9.50.

The run. to Southampton occupied a little over two hours, but *or all

Jus apparent enjoyment of his ease and cigars, the time dragged heavily- • :

On reaching his destination he peered anxiously along the platform. There were no ominous-looking, individuals lounging about, and his quick eye rested hopefully on a dapper little man in a smart yachting •uniform. Before Sir George could step out of the compartment , the dapper yachtsman was at the , door. "You're well up to time, Sir George,':' said he, .touching his cap. "Any luggage?" "Only this bag," said the financier. ' They went down to the quay and boarded a trim motor-launch. •'Have a cigar, Sloan?" '"Thank you very ■ much, Sir George." Sloan started the lunch, and tihey slipped away from the quay. A large steam yacht lay a little way out, ana towards her they headed. Sir George cast .an occasional glance behind and around as they thudded through the choppy water. ' His gaze became suddenly fixed in a certain direction astern. "Full speed, Sloan," he said. "You're positively -crawling." It was the police in pursuit, right enough. They had caught the alarm, but a. little too late. Sloan made the little craft fairly tear through the waves, and within the next few minutes the launch was alongside the yacht, and Captain Smiler was greeting his employer. "Give her her head, Smiler J Right away for Land's End." The police-boat, toiling on doggedly but afar off, signalled desperately as the yacht got under way, but they took no notice. The yacht steamed down the solent, its captain, passenger, and crew deaf and blind to the frantic signals of the police cutter. Sir George and .the ekipper had supper together in the saloon; then they lit their cigars over fresh cups of coffee. ' The weather was all that could be desired for yachting, and, rounding Land's End,- Smiler carried out the financier's orders and cruised about the bight of the Britsol Channelstood on and off the Cornish coast all day, yet kept clear of in-going and out-going vessels. Night closed in dark and misty. Wishart rubbed his hands. "Stand in now for Land End, Smiler," he directed, " and dowse all lights aboard." "Sir George!" "You ■ heard me all right, Smiler. Cover up all lights— don't let one show, aloft or alow. You understand me?" "Perfectly, eir." In great mystification, nevertheless, Captain Smiler saw his employer's order obeyed; and, without a light upon, her, except that in the binnacle, the yacht stole in, like a phantom of the night, through the mist and darkness towards the Cornish ccoast. , "Yonder is Land's End, Sir George. What am I to ido ;now.f" "Steer .a ;north-east course. Don't hug the shore exactly. Keep well away from it, so that we won't be seen 1 by the coastguard. And—just tow a couple of grapnels overboard." "Grapnels, ,Sir ..George?" "Yes. I said grapnels, Captain Smiler..'" The mystified .skipper carried out this order, too, and the yatch cruised slowly along the north coast of Cornwall, with two many-fluked .grapnels creeping at the bottom ;of the sea. Captain Smiler .then .approached the financier. ''What's the game, Sir ..George?" he .asked in .a Jow but decided tone. "Haven't you tumbled to it?" "Not quite. ■ I know the police are after you—that you are wanted on ; a fresh charge. You gotsoff one trial but you evidently don't care to face the music this time. You're playing some deep game with all this, and I want to know what it is." Sir George threw away his cigar. "I'll be candid with you, Smiler," he said. "I'm on the high seas, and those "who wamt me know -it, and have, undoubtedly, cabled every port I'm likely to put into. If I can only get through New York, I'll be-safe, i How am Ito do that? My intentioni is simply to lift the cable hereabouts]! and telegraph to .New York that thei previous message was ah error; that '\ Sir George Wishart has not left Eng-1 land and has beem arrested. , " : |

"Sir George, you're a genius; and, hang me, if I don't :see you through this!" _ l

The two shook hands and continued the conversation in subdued Tvhjspers. .

All at once there vas an interruption. The yacht, steaming at dead slow, stopped -with a jerk. Her head swung round to port.

"We've hooked it! Come along! exclaimed the financier, excitement for the first time breaking through his mask of calm. '

A fesv minutes after, to the garrulous chatter of the steam-winch, the cable was hove up on deck. Then a large plain wood packing-case was hurriedly pulled forward and knocked to pieces.

The curious eyes of the crew beheld a set of strange-looking mechanical instruments.

Sir George leisurely divested himself of his coat and cap, and made a short, but evidently expert, examination of the apparatus.

"Ci.±. +Q6 cabin. , ' he ordered

The crew stood ready. S'The English end first!" said Wishart; and he himself deftly and swiftly coupled on the instrument to tho cable-end on the shore side. Seating himself in front of the transmitter he telegraphed the one word "Wait!" Hurriedly he uncoupled the cableend from the machine. "The American end!" he cried. The men thrust it into his grasp, and in an instant he had the terminals fixed on to it. A low burr at once proceeded from the instrument. "A message .'»s coming through from New York. It's all right," explained Sir George. "The operator is asking what's wrong at this end— did we get the whole, of die message?" He began to work the transmitter. "I've told them it's all right—that we received the message. Now lor mine!" And he despatched it. The two lengths of cable were joined together again; and, properly insulated; it was dropped back into the water, when the yacht turned her back on Cornwall and stood away, at the full speed of her engines, for New York. Into New York harbour they boldly put, fully satisfied their ruse of tapping the cable had worked. Much to Wishart's consternation, however, they had no sooner dropped anchor than a police boat came alongside. .' "Sir George Wishart?" asked the officer "who stepped aboard. "Yes. What's the matter " "On behalf of the President of the United States, I" arrest you, Sir George Wishart, for extradition to England." "What do you mean?" "You were a little too shaTp, Sir George—a little too premature, as a matter of fact. If you'd only been five minutes later with that cablegram of yours, you might have taken us in. Your message, I may tell you, came five minutes before the Britisn Government's. Here is their message, if you would like to hear it: " 'Please arrest Sir George Wishart on landing in New York. He is on yacht, the Kestrel. Beware any false message over cable, as we have discovered he purchased set of telegraph instruments and had them sent aboard yacht a few days ago.' " —John G. Rowe.