“It appears to me there’s one point you’ve overlooked,” remarked Mr. Pauling as he glanced about. “I thought your main idea in using this submarine was that if sighted by any of those we are after they would recognize it and their suspicions would not be aroused. With this disguise they would never know the boat.”

Rawlins laughed. “Oh, I’ve kept that in mind,” he responded. “This is just a camouflaged camouflage.”

Then, before Mr. Pauling could ask for an explanation, he turned to the members of his crew, gave an order and, to the amazement of Mr. Pauling and his party, the men commenced to strip a layer of painted canvas from the submarine.

“By Jove!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson, “that’s cleverly done. I never realized it was not painted upon the vessel herself. You’re some artist, Rawlins.”

As soon as the canvas disguise had been removed, preparations were made to get under way and all entered the hatch in the superstructure.

“How about the destroyer?” inquired Mr. Pauling. “Did you arrange with Disbrow to be near in case of need?”

“Yes,” replied Rawlins. “We simply have to give him our position and he’ll be within an hour’s run.”

“Didn’t I understand you had a surprise in store for us?” asked Mr. Henderson. “What was it, that canvas camouflage?”

“Not a bit of it!” declared Rawlins. “It’s down below. Come along and have a look at it.”

Descending into the submarine, Rawlins led the way through the narrow passage past the engine room and stopped before a small iron door. “Be prepared for a jolt!” he warned them and as he spoke threw the door open.

As the two men glanced within they fairly jumped and both uttered involuntary cries of utter amazement. Seated upon a bunk in the small steel walled room was a man and no second glance was needed to recognize him. It was Smernoff!

But what a changed Smernoff! No longer did the small piglike eyes glare defiance and hatred at the Americans. His head was bowed upon his chest, his mouth, once so hard and cruel, drooped at the corners, his face was lined and seamed and his eyes held a far-away, wistful look.

“Where did he come from?” exclaimed Mr. Henderson, when he recovered from his surprise at this totally unexpected and almost miraculous reappearance of the Russian.

“And what on earth’s happened to him?” added Mr. Pauling. “Why, the fellow looks absolutely tamed and cowed—in fact broken. What have you done to him?”

“He’s tame all right,” replied Rawlins. “But we haven’t done a thing to him—except keep him locked up until we had orders from you. He’s no longer either an enemy or a ‘red,’ Mr. Pauling.”

“Well, you’re a most surprising man—I don’t wonder your darky caretakers believe you are in league with the devil—and you speak in riddles. Come, what’s the story? Why is this fellow so changed and what on earth do you mean when you say he’s no longer a ‘red’ or an enemy?”

But before Rawlins could reply a deep voice came from the room and with a start Mr. Pauling whirled about to find that Smernoff was speaking; and in English.

“Excuse, please,” he said in slow hesitating words. “Me, I no mek trouble, no. Me, I theenk maybe can help. Me, I want keel all Bolshevik fellow. Ah! heem, I dreenk he blood!”

“By Jove, he speaks English!” cried Mr. Henderson.

“I’ll say he does!” agreed Rawlins with a grin. “Always has, just been bluffing all along, but he’s through with that now. I’ll tell you the story in a few words. Two days out we sighted a disabled powerboat and running alongside found Smernoff just about all in lying in the bottom. You can just bet I was about knocked clean over when I saw him. Last I’d seen of him he was under lock and key in jail and here he was bobbing up in a little power boat in the middle of the Atlantic. Of course none of the men knew him so I said nothing—told them he was a bit looney and we’d have to keep him locked up.

“The next day he spoke to me in English and nearly bowled me over again by doing so. Then he told me he’d escaped and all about it. Said he’d got away by the aid of some ‘red’ sympathizers in the prison and had hidden with friends on the East Side somewhere down in Allen Street. While he was lying low he got word from Russia that his whole family—kids and all—had been murdered by the Bolshevists and he went clean off his head at that. It was one thing to be a ‘red’ and kill others and a different matter to have the ‘reds’ killing your folks.

“Well, the upshot of it was that he swung clean around and only had one thought and that was to get even. He started in by doing up all the ‘reds’ he knew around his hang-out and then hit it for the docks with the idea of clearing out—stowing away—in some ship that would get him to Europe. But he couldn’t make it. Too many cops about and so he grabbed a powerboat, paddled away from the docks at night and started for the open sea.

“He wasn’t nutty enough to expect to cross in the craft, but he had an idea he could get well off the land and sight some outward bound ship and get picked up. Only trouble was he hadn’t figured on a northwest gale which drove him off the steamships’ courses and left him disabled and without grub or water. Drifted three days and nights before we hove in sight. He thinks it’s a direct act of God and I don’t know but he’s right. At any rate, he’s keen on being with us and if he is in earnest—and I reckon he wouldn’t have taken the chance he did if he wasn’t—he’ll be a help to us all right.”

“It’s one of those miraculous coincidences that are far stranger than fiction,” commented Mr. Pauling. “But I am skeptical about his story. How do we know it is not a tissue of lies? He may have merely tried to escape the police in the launch and invented this yarn to hoodwink us. I guess we’d better keep him locked up.”

“Well he’s got the letter telling about his folks being killed,” said Rawlins.

“H-m-m, and his face is changed—I’m inclined to believe him,” declared Mr. Henderson. “You know, Pauling,” he continued, “there are no more vindictive enemies of the ‘reds’ than one of their company who suffers at their hands. You must remember that Ivan was as fanatical a Soviet as ever lived until his parents were butchered.”

“Yes, you’re right, Henderson,” admitted Mr. Pauling. “We’ll have a long talk with Smernoff and get at the truth. But for the present we’ll leave him. Plenty of time after we’re under way.”

Rawlins grinned, “We’re under way now,” he remarked. “Have been for the past fifteen minutes. Didn’t you hear the engines?”

“Jove, you don’t say so!” exclaimed Mr. Henderson.

“Gosh, I can’t believe it!” cried Tom.

“Why, I thought that noise was just the dynamos!” put in Frank. “Say, are we under water?”

“Surest thing you know!” replied Rawlins. “She’s under her electric motors now and runs smooth as a watch. Come on, boys, and have a squint through the periscope.”

“We’ll stay behind a bit and talk to Smernoff,” said Mr. Pauling. “No use in keeping him locked up if he’s in earnest.”

Reaching the observation room Rawlins led the boys to the eye-piece of the periscope and as Tom squinted into it he gave a delighted cry.

“Gosh, Frank, we are under water! Say, I can see the island back there pretty near two miles away. Isn’t it great! Think of being in a real submarine under the sea!”

Frank was as delighted and interested as Tom when his turn came to have a look. Then, a few minutes later, the louder rumble of the Diesel motors throbbed through the undersea craft and Rawlins announced that they were on the surface.

“No use running submerged except when in sight of land or a vessel,” he said, “she doesn’t make half her speed underwater and it’s a strain on her and we might bump into a reef. I’m not any too familiar with the channels that will accommodate her submerged.”

Hurrying up the steel ladder the boys and Rawlins reached the deck and gazed about, delighted at the speed the craft was making and the novel sensation of traveling on a submarine. But there was really little to be seen and the vessel might have been an ordinary ship as far as appearances or sensations were concerned. Noticing the aerial overhead, the boys’ minds at once turned to radio.

“Are our things all right?” Tom asked Rawlins. “I guess we might as well get busy and set them up. We may need them at any time.”

“Sure they’re all right,” replied the diver. “But say, I’ve been wondering how you’ll work this thing. Won’t the steel hull interfere with the waves?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Tom, “but we’ll soon find out. At any rate if the others sent and received messages in this craft we can.”

“Well if they could and they did why did they need this gadget overhead?” asked Rawlins.

“Maybe that was just for sending when on the surface,” suggested Frank. “You know those sets of ours would only send a short distance under water and we used mighty short wave lengths. If they wanted to send and receive ordinary messages they’d need this aerial, I expect.”

“Hadn’t thought of that,” said Rawlins. “I never can get onto this radio stuff. By the way, how about showing me how a fellow can hear a fly jazzing and all that?”

“Gosh!” exclaimed Tom, “I’d almost forgotten those crystals. Say, I’ll bet that’s how they received under water. Come on, let’s try some experiments.”

Descending the ladder, they made their way to the radio room and Rawlins hauled out the cases in which the boys’ undersea radio sets were packed. The naval operator who was in charge of the room looked rather contemptuously at the “kids” as he considered them, but his attitude underwent a tremendous change when he learned that the “kids” were in control of the radio aboard and that he was subject to their orders.

“Let’s try those crystals first,” suggested Frank. “I’m crazy to see if they’ll really do all that article said they would.”

As the boys got out the big crystals the regular operator’s eyes gleamed. “By Jupiter!” he exclaimed, “That’s the first time I’ve seen those since the war. We used ’em in submarine detectors you know—could hear a sub’s screw whirring three miles off.”

“Hurrah, then you know about them!” cried Tom. “I’m awfully glad you do. We only read about them and Mr. Rawlins wouldn’t believe the things we told him, so we’re going to show him.”

“Well, I don’t know such an all-fired lot either,” admitted the naval man. “But I know they worked wonders as we used ’em.”

“Let’s see,” said Tom as he examined the crystal in its metal support. “We have to connect it with our amplifier. There, that may not be right, but it’s the way I understand it. Then we connect another crystal to the amplifier. Now let’s see. They say that if this is done right and the first crystal is scratched or rubbed on something, the second one will reproduce the noise, only thousands of times louder.”

As he spoke, he gingerly touched the crystal, but nothing happened. With a puzzled look he rubbed his finger across it and still no result. Then, opening his pocket knife he scratched the crystal deeply, but still nothing occurred.

Rawlins began to laugh. “Nothing doing!” he exclaimed. “I’ll bet they’re only good for medicine.”

“I expect we haven’t got it connected properly,” said Frank. “Let’s try a different combination.”

While he spoke the two boys were busy disconnecting and rearranging the wires while Rawlins chuckled and kidded them good-naturedly.

Finally the boys had the wires connected and as Tom turned on the filament to the amplifier tubes in preparation for another trial Rawlins, who had been casually examining a bit of crystal tossed it onto the table. Instantly there was a shivering crash.

“Struck a reef!” cried Rawlins, and with frightened eyes all stood motionless, silently staring at one another and expecting each moment to feel the craft reeling or to hear excited shouts from the engine room. Was she injured? Was their cruise to end so soon? Was the submarine sinking? Such thoughts sped through the boys’ minds and each wondered how long they would stand there waiting for the order to desert their craft. But the steady throb of the engines continued. No sounds of excitement came from the engine crew. No signal from the navigator.

“Well I’ll be jiggered!” ejaculated Rawlins. “Must have just scraped bottom. Close shave though. Well, I guess you’re satisfied those salt rocks aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

As he ended Rawlins contemptuously flipped his finger nail against a crystal and almost bumped his head against the low ceiling as he leaped aside, for at the touch of his finger nail a high-pitched shriek seemed to issue from the crystals.

“Hurrah!” shouted Tom. “Hurrah! Now do you say they don’t work!”

“Oh, oh!” cried Frank between peals of laughter. “Oh, oh! That is one on you, Mr. Rawlins. That ‘struck a reef!’ Say, that wasn’t a reef, that was just the crystal you tossed on the table!”

Rawlins stood staring with gaping mouth and incredulous eyes.

“Sure it was!” repeated Frank. “See here!” Picking up the fragment of crystal he dropped it on the table top and again the rattling crash resounded through the room.

“Well!” cried Rawlins. “That beats anything I ever saw or heard by twenty miles.”

Half fearfully he reached forward and moved the crystal and a dull grating noise resulted. He tapped gently on the table and the blows resounded through the room like strokes of a sledge hammer.

“Beats the Dutch, don’t it!” exclaimed the operator. Then, taking out his watch he placed it on the table near the crystals and instantly steady beats like a hammer ringing on an anvil came from the crystals.

“Oh, here you are!” exclaimed Mr. Pauling who now entered the room. “What are you up to? Oh, I see—trying to show our Missouri friend! Well, how does it work?”

“I’ll say I’m shown!” declared Rawlins. “Darndest thing I ever saw! Just look here, Mr. Pauling. Drop something on the table there.”

Rather curiously, Tom’s father drew a coin from his pocket and dropped it on the table as suggested and at the resounding bang that followed he uttered an exclamation of amazement and involuntarily jumped back.

“You don’t mean to say that was the sound of a dime dropping?” he cried. “Why, it’s simply marvelous—absolutely uncanny.”

“Now don’t you believe you could hear a fly walk?” demanded Tom of Rawlins.

“You bet, and a mosquito sneeze!” replied the diver. “I’ll wager you could hear a man write his own name.”

Drawing a pencil from his pocket he wrote his name upon the paper covering the table, and all gasped in wonder as each stroke of the pencil came to their ears in grating, reverberating howls.

“Ah ha!” ejaculated Mr. Henderson who had approached unseen. “So you’ve found the magic in the crystals! But I’d wager you haven’t found all the wonders they contain yet. I suppose you haven’t a phonograph on board?”

“One of the men has,” replied the naval operator. “Shall I fetch it, sir?”

“Yes, if you will,” said Mr. Henderson. “I’ll show you a singing crystal in a moment, and there’s another thing. These crystals possess another remarkable property—they generate electricity.”

“Generate electricity!” cried Tom in puzzled tones. “How can they do that?”

“I’ll try to show you when we have tried the phonograph test,” replied Mr. Henderson. “Ah, here’s the machine.”

Shutting off the current to the tubes, Mr. Henderson removed the sound box from the phonograph, fastened a needle to the crystal with a bit of thread and sealing wax, fastened the whole to the arm of the machine and adjusting the needle so it rested on a record set the phonograph in motion.

“Now turn on your filament rheostats,” he said, and as Tom did so, the second crystal suddenly burst into a rollicking song.

“Absolutely amazing!” declared Mr. Pauling as the record stopped.

“Here’s another!” laughed Mr. Henderson, as he again started the record moving. Then, lifting the second crystal, he placed it in his pocket with the result that he seemed to be singing himself.

The boys roared with merriment.

“Why,” cried Tom. “With one of those any one could be a ventriloquist. All you’d have to do would be to have wires leading out of sight and keep the crystal in your pocket. Wouldn’t it be rich!”

Mr. Henderson now took the singing crystal from his pocket and placed it on a bare spot of wood and to every one’s amazement it jumped and leaped about as if endowed with life.

“Dances while it sings,” remarked Mr. Henderson. “That shows how strong the vibrations are. Now let’s try the test for electricity I mentioned.”

Selecting a large crystal Mr. Henderson placed it in one of the metal frames whose use the boys could not fathom and after fastening wires to it asked if they had a voltmeter.

The operator brought one and attaching the wires from the crystal to the instrument Mr. Henderson told them to watch the needle. Then, turning the knob on the frame and thus twisting it slightly, he brought a strain upon the crystal and instantly the needle of the voltmeter soared upward to 500.

“Jehoshaphat!” cried Frank. “That beats all yet!”

“I’ll say it does!” agreed Rawlins.

“But, why have you never told us about them before?” asked Tom.

“Simply forgot them,” replied Mr. Henderson. “I never made use of them and had merely seen their wonders demonstrated out at the Bell laboratories when I was inspector there. Thought them remarkable but of no practical value at the time, although I knew later they were used as submarine detectors and for deep-seas sounding. I can see now, however, how useful they will prove. What are you boys intending to do with them?”

“Well, we hadn’t exactly decided yet,” replied Tom, “but we thought the fellows that had this sub probably used them in receiving undersea radio and we were going to rig up something of the same sort.”

“I expect they did use them,” agreed Mr. Henderson, “and you should be able to arrange a set with them. Does Bancroft here know how those submarine detectors were arranged?”

“Well, not exactly, Sir,” replied the operator, “but I think I can manage after a bit of experimenting, Sir. That is, with the young gentlemen’s help.”

“Very well, go to it,” replied Mr. Henderson, “but you’ll find they’re doing it with your help if you don’t watch out. I’ll wager they can teach you a lot about radio.”

But both Bancroft and the boys found it a far more difficult matter to rig up a detector than they had imagined.

“The trouble is we can’t tell when it’s right,” said Tom, “and we don’t know yet whether or not we can hear even without the crystals. I vote we get Rawlins to stop the submarine and go down and test the thing out.”

This seemed a good plan, but they were now well away from land and both Rawlins and Mr. Pauling told the impatient boys that they would have to wait until the next day when Rawlins said they would be near one of the cays and could run into shoal water and test the instruments.

In the meantime Smernoff had been put through a severe grilling and at last, Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson being convinced that the Russian was cured of Bolshevism forever and really wanted to do anything in his power to aid in stamping out the gang of which he had been a member, he was freed, but cautioned to remain within certain bounds and was turned over to the chief engineer.

“He’s a machinist and engineer,” Mr. Henderson explained, “but he’s also a desperate character, or at least was, and has escaped from prison twice. For reasons which I need not mention we are inclined to think he’s reformed and may be of help. Let him work, but keep an eye on him constantly and if you see anything suspicious or any attempt to disable the machinery or to do anything that savors of treachery have him put in irons if you have to tap him over the head with a spanner to do it.”

The engineer squinted at Mr. Henderson with a quizzical expression. Then, wiping his big hairy hands on a piece of cotton waste he pushed back his greasy cap exposing a shock of flaming hair.

“Verra weel, Sir,” he replied. “I ken his breed an’ ye can trust me ta see nowt happens as shouldna’. But I ne’er used spanner on lad yet, Sir, an ne’er expect to hae to. Naw, naw, Meester Henderson, Sir; ’tis a braw laddie I canna make see the light o’ reason wi’ me ain han’s.”

Mr. Henderson chuckled. “Yes, I guess you’re right there, McPherson,” he replied. “I remember the story about your holding the reverse when the lever broke on the Baxter. Personally, I think I’d prefer the spanner to your fists if I were the culprit.”

Early the next morning Long Island was sighted and, passing Whale Point with the submarine submerged, Rawlins headed for Rum Cay. Here, under Sam’s guidance, the sub-sea boat was brought safely into a sheltered cove and preparations were made for tests of the radio. Rawlins donned his suit and slipped out through the air-lock, for the first test was to see if he could hear what was sent from the submarine. When, after the stipulated time, he returned, he reported that he had heard clearly, but not as loudly as in New York. Satisfied that their sending apparatus would work just as well from within the submarine as from shore Tom also donned a diving suit for the purpose of sending to Frank who was left in charge of the receiving set with Bancroft to help him.

Despite the fact that Tom had been down so often in the north it was a totally new and strange sensation to descend here in the Bahamas and from a submarine. He entered the air-lock with Rawlins, saw the water-tight steel doors closed behind him, saw Rawlins moving a wheel and slowly the water rose about him. Then Rawlins stepped to a lever, a round steel door slowly opened in the floor and following Rawlins Tom slipped through and half floated to the bottom of the sea. For a moment he could scarcely believe he was under water. He had expected everything to be indistinct, shadowy and green as it had been in the north. Instead, he seemed standing in air suffused with a soft blue light. Before him, plain and distinct, was the bulk of the submarine, each seam and rivet clearly visible. Under his feet was a smooth, white, sandy floor. Here and there great purple sea-fans, swaying black sea-rods and masses of gaudy coral broke the broad expanse of sand while, over and about him, brilliant scarlet, purple, blue, gold and multicolored fishes swam lazily, paying not the least attention to the intruders. Looking up, Tom could see only a marvelously blue void like a summer’s sky and on every side he could see for what seemed an interminable distance. It was all very wonderful and very beautiful and he would have liked to stop and admire it, but Rawlins held his arm and was guiding him along the sea bottom away from the submarine.

“Gosh, it’s great!” exclaimed Tom, suddenly remembering that he could converse with his companion.

“Didn’t I tell you ’twas!” replied Rawlins, his voice coming to Tom so distinctly that the boy started. “Not much like that dirty old river.”

“Hello, hello!” came Frank’s voice plainly, but rather faintly. “Were you speaking, Tom?”

“Yes, can you hear?” cried Tom.

“What is it you say?” queried Frank’s voice. “I can’t make out a word. Just a sort of crackling like static.”

Tom spoke still louder and at last shouted, but still Frank kept asking what he was saying and declaring he could not make it out.

“Well, something’s wrong,” Tom announced at last. “Might as well go back. They can’t hear.”

Ascending through the open door to the air-lock Tom waited while Rawlins manipulated the machinery which forced the water from the tiny chamber and let in the air and a moment later they were again in the radio room.

“I knew you were talking,” said Frank, “but I couldn’t make out a single word, just buzzes and clicks. What do you suppose is wrong?”

“It’s the way we have it connected up,” declared Tom, “but it gets me. I can’t understand why, if we get sounds through our suits with those little grid antennae you shouldn’t get them here with that bigger antenna. Did you try the regular aerial connection too?”

“Yes I tried both—or rather Mr. Bancroft tried one and I tried the other—and he didn’t get anything.”

“Well, if the fellow who had this sub before used those crystals then they had ’em hooked up differently or something. I wonder if their sets in their suits would work better.”

Acting on this idea Rawlins donned one of the suits they had taken from their captives in New York and again went down, but the results were no better. As Frank had said, there were sounds—buzzing noises which were intermittent and indicated that Rawlins was speaking, but nothing that in the least resembled human voice or words.

“We’ll have to think this out,” declared Tom. “We get the noises, but not the words so it must be we pick up the waves and it’s a question of modulation. Let’s see. Those crystals magnify sounds when they’re touched or vibrated or when there’s a vibration or jar to the thing they’re resting on. Gosh! I believe I know our trouble.”

“Well, what is it?” demanded Frank.

“Why, we’ve got this rigged up for a detector—the way they did for submarines—and we do get the noises which was what they wanted when locating a sub, but we don’t get the words. The trouble is we’ve got the cart before the horse. We’ve hooked this up so the crystals come before the phones. What we need is to transfer the sound waves in the phones to the crystals and let ’em amplify them. As ’tis now we’re amplifying electric waves not sound waves.”

“I guess you’re right,” agreed Frank. “Let’s try it the other way.”

It took some time to rearrange the set, but with Mr. Henderson to advise and Bancroft to help, it was done at last and once more Rawlins entered the air-lock.

Hardly had he had time to reach bottom the boys thought when, to their inexpressable delight, his voice came to their ears clearly.

“Hello!” he said. “Do you get me?”

“Hurrah it works!” cried Tom and instantly Rawlins’s voice responded:

“Bully for you!”

“Walk farther off and see if we can get you,” suggested Tom over the phone.

“All right,” responded Rawlins.

Five minutes passed and then, rather faint, but still easily understandable, Rawlins’ voice again came to them.

“All right,” cried Tom. “How far away are you?”

“About five hundred yards,” replied the diver. “I can just hear you.”

“Well that’s about the limit, I guess,” remarked Tom, as Rawlins told him he was returning to the submarine. “Say, isn’t it just immense?”

“Wonderful!” agreed his father. “But let me ask a question. Suppose we overhear some one talking. How will you know where they are or whether they are under water or on land. It seems to me that’s a very important matter.”

“Golly, that’s so!” exclaimed Tom. “I hadn’t thought of that. Our loop aerials won’t work in here, I suppose.”

“Might,” commented Frank, and then, “What about that resonance coil? That might do.”

“Let’s try!” agreed Tom, and calling to Rawlins to wait where he was they hurriedly disconnected their instruments and connected the odd resonance coil in position.

“Now, say something, Mr. Rawlins,” called Tom.

Anxiously the boys waited but no response came although the boys could hear a very faint buzzing sound.

“Well, that evidently is a failure,” said Tom, “but just the same these fellows wouldn’t have had it aboard unless there was some use for it.”

“I’ll tell you what I think,” said Bancroft. “My idea is they used that in the air, when they were running on the surface or just awash. You might get the words from under water then, or perhaps it wasn’t used for undersea work.”

“We’ll have to try that—when Mr. Rawlins gets here,” replied Tom.

Presently Rawlins appeared and the boys told him of their new plans. In a few minutes the submarine had risen to the surface and the boys prepared to test the resonance coil.

“First we’ll try it in the air,” announced Tom. “Walk over on the island there, Mr. Rawlins, and see if we can get you.”

Accordingly, the diver slipped into the sea and a few moments later his head appeared near shore and for the first time the boys experienced the strange sensation of seeing a man walk ashore from beneath the water. That they could receive messages with the resonance coil through the air was soon proved to their satisfaction, and telling Rawlins to go under water and walk about in different directions the two boys and their companions, who were fully as much interested, prepared for the final test. But this was a dismal failure and chagrined and disappointed the boys gave up at last.

“If we hear any one under water we’ll have to find them some other way,” Tom announced. “We just get that funny buzz we used to hear in New York. And I’ll bet anything that was the men talking under water. But if we hear anyone talking in the air we can locate them all right.”

As Tom had been speaking he had turned half around and his resonance coil was swung towards the southeast. The next moment, Frank’s excited voice called up from below where he had been seated at the receivers.

“Jehoshaphat!” he yelled. “They’re talking! Those Russians! I hear them plainly!”