The Ocean Wireless Boys on the Pacific by Wilbur Lawton
The Ocean Wireless Boys on the Pacific by Wilbur Lawton
Twenty days out from San Francisco in the vast, heaving desert of the sea, twenty days of storm, sunshine and calm, the Sea Gypsy, the great white yacht of Jacob Jukes, head of the big Atlantic and Pacific Shipping Combine, was making her way lazily through the dreamy South Seas. The vessel was capable of great speed, being known as one of the fastest craft of her kind. But she was bound on a mission which might take a long time to consummate, and economy of coal, which was piled even on her decks, to re-enforce the supply in the bunkers, was necessary.
What this mission was remained, so far, a mystery to every one on board except Mr. Jukes himself, the iron-jawed and impenetrable organizer of the expedition. Up to this time he had shown no inclination to unburden himself of his secret, and although the craft was equipped with powerful wireless of the most modern type, the yacht had received no messages, nor had she sent any, under orders from Mr. Jukes.
On this particular evening Jack Ready leaned against the door of the wireless-room, a converted deck cabin, and covertly watched the heavy-shouldered, bull-necked form of the millionaire shipping man as the latter gazed over the rail across the vacant waters at the gorgeous sunset.
It was a true pageant of the heavens, such as is only to be seen in the Southern ocean. Great cloud-masses rose in wondrous forms, like glorified castle walls and turrets, glowing with purple and gold and red. Jack found himself following Mr. Jukes' gaze. Although such spectacles had been almost nightly ones since they had steamed into the tropics, there was something wild and sinister about the present one that thrilled him.
Captain Septimus Sparhawk, the brown, gaunt captain of the yacht, whose thin face was decorated by two little dabs of grayish whiskers forward of each ear, passed by.
"Nothing to do but to look at the sky, eh?" he asked Jack, as a suspicion of a smile crept over his face.
"That's about all, sir," rejoined Jack, with a laugh. "I expect to see spiders spinning webs on my instruments every day. I haven't touched the key since we sailed."
The captain shook his head. He was an old and loyal employee of the shipping man, and not much given to words. But, apparently, now he felt called upon to express himself.
"It's a queer business, lad," he said, "and it may get queerer still before we find out what it's all about. I'm as much in the dark as you or the cabin boy. But right now that sunset worries me more than anything else."
"You're on the look-out for a storm?" asked Jack, noting a sudden look of anxiety in the captain's pale blue eyes, surrounded by a network of tiny wrinkles, due to long gazing into salty gales.
"Worse than that, Ready," was the rejoinder. "This is the hurricane season in these parts and the glass,-I've just taken a squint at it,-is dropping as if it never meant to stop."
"If I could use the wireless--" began Jack.
"We could probably get a weather reading from some other ship," interrupted the captain, starting off, "but as it is, we might as well not have it on board at all. The thing's got me stumped."
He carried himself off on his long, thin legs but paused to speak to Mr. Jukes. The ship-owner, although Jack could not hear what was said, appeared to be agitated somewhat by the captain's words, for he began puffing rapidly at his after-dinner cigar, sending out smoke like the exhaust of a locomotive funnel, a sure sign, as Jack had observed, that he was disturbed.
"I'll make all snug, sir," the boy heard the captain say, as he turned away, "and then we will be prepared for whatever happens."
"Very well, Sparhawk," answered Mr. Jukes, in a somewhat louder voice than he had used hitherto, "and be sure to see to it that the deck load of coal is secured safely. They tell me the bunkers are running low."
As has been stated, the Sea Gypsy's decks were piled high fore and aft with coal, kept in place by wooden bulkheads, which did not add to the appearance of the ship and encumbered progress from bow to stern. Only amidships, where the cabins were situated, was the deck clear. As the captain ascended the bridge he turned and gave an order to a petty officer and presently the crew could be seen at work lashing big tarpaulins down over the coal which was so important to keep the Sea Gypsy moving on her mysterious mission.
The news that the coal supply was running low in the bunkers was a surprise to Jack. He made for Billy Raynor's cabin where the young chief engineer of the yacht was writing up his "log."
"Yes, it's right," he rejoined to Jack's question, "the loss of that deck load would be a serious matter. We're a good many hundred miles from land and will have to tap the supply before long."
"Billy, what on earth do you suppose is the object of this voyage?" demanded Jack abruptly.
"Blessed if I know, but I'm well satisfied with my promotion and job," declared Raynor. "Cruising these wonderful seas in a yacht that's a beauty, even if her decks are all littered up like a cattle boat's, just about suits me."
"That's all right, you've got something to do," complained Jack. "But look at my case. I have to polish up my instruments every day to keep them from getting rusty."
"Serves you right for not stopping ashore and enjoying yourself," chuckled Raynor teasingly. "Since you sold that 'Universal Detector' of yours to the government you could surely afford to."
"Just as if I could kick my heels on shore doing nothing," was Jack's indignant reply, "but it does seem as if it's about time we knew something of what this voyage is for."
"Maybe it's just a pleasure cruise to allow Mr. Jukes to get away from his business troubles," hazarded Raynor.
Jack shook his head in decided negative.
"There's more in it than that," he declared positively. "Mr. Jukes is first of all a man of business. He wouldn't come skylarking across the Pacific for three weeks if he was just out for a cruise. He'd go where he could keep in touch with the market and Wall Street."
"That's so," Raynor was compelled to agree. "Well, I suppose when he gets ready to spill some information he'll do it. In the meantime my job just suits me. But what made you ask about the deck coal?"
"Because Captain Sparhawk says we're in for a bad blow, maybe a hurricane."
Raynor's usually cheerful face became suddenly serious.
"When did he say that?" he asked.
"Just now. They're putting tarpaulins over it now. If we dropped it, we'd be in a bad fix, eh, Billy?"
"We'd have about coal enough left for two or three days," rejoined Raynor.
"And after that--?"
"It would be a case of 'merrily we drift along.'"
The door gave a sudden sharp slam. A puff of wind, sweeping suddenly over the hitherto breathless sea, had banged it shut.
Jack jumped up and swung it quickly open again.
"Here she comes," he cried excitedly.
At the same instant the Sea Gypsy gave a sidelong lurch that sent both lads helter-skelter across the cabin. Outside came a sudden bawling of voices and a distant, disquieting roar that grew louder every second.
<div>Since the series' inception in 1915, the annual volumes of The Best American Short Stories have launched literary careers, showcased the most compelling stories of each year, and confirmed for all time the significance of the short story in our national literature. Now THE BEST AMERICAN SHORT STORIES OF THE CENTURY brings together the best -- fifty-six extraordinary stories that represent a century's worth of unsurpassed achievements in this quintessentially American literary genre. This expanded edition includes a new story from The Best American Short Stories 1999 to round out the century, as well as an index including every story published in the series.<br> Of all the writers whose work has appeared in the series, only John Updike has been represented in each of the last five decades, from his first appearance, in 1959, to his most recent, in 1998. Updike worked with coeditor Katrina Kenison to choose the finest stories from the years since 1915. The result is \"extraordinary . . . A one-volume literary history of this country's immeasurable pains and near-infinite hopes\" (Boston Globe).
Madisyn was stunned to discover that she was not her parents' biological child. Due to the real daughter's scheming, she was kicked out and became a laughingstock. Thought to be born to peasants, Madisyn was shocked to find that her real father was the richest man in the city, and her brothers were renowned figures in their respective fields. They showered her with love, only to learn that Madisyn had a thriving business of her own. "Stop pestering me!" said her ex-boyfriend. "My heart only belongs to Jenna." "How dare you think that my woman has feelings for you?" claimed a mysterious bigwig.
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."
I'm a moaning mess as Antonio slams into me from behind. His hips hit me hard, and each deep thrust sends shockwaves through my body. My breasts bounce with every movement, my eyes roll back, and I moan his name without control. The pleasure he gives me is overwhelming-I can't hold it in. I feel my walls tighten around his thick length. The pressure builds fast, and then- I explode around him, my orgasm tearing through me. He groans loud and deep as he releases inside me, his hot seed spilling into me in thick pulses. Just when I think he's done, his grip shifts. He turns me over and lays me flat on the bed. His dark eyes stare into mine for a moment, filled with raw hunger. I glance down- He's still hard. Before I can react, he grabs my wrists, pins me down, and pushes himself inside me again. He fills me completely. My hips rise on instinct, meeting his rhythm. Our bodies move together, locked in a wild, uncontrollable dance. "You're fucking sweet," he groans, his voice rough and breathless. "I can't get enough of you... not after that night, Sol," he growls, slamming into me harder. The force of his words and his thrusts make my body shake. "Come for me," he commands, his voice low and full of heat. And just like that, my body trembles. Waves of pleasure crash over me. I cry out, shaking with the force of my orgasm. "Mine," he growls again, louder this time. His voice is feral, wild, like a beast claiming what belongs to him. The sound sends a shiver down my spine. *** Solene was betrayed, humiliated, and erased by Rowan Brook, the man she once called husband, Solene is left with nothing but her name and a burning hunger for revenge. She turns to the one man powerful enough to destroy the Brooks family from within: Rowan's estranged and dangerous uncle, Antonio Rodriguez. He's ruthless. A playboy who never sleeps with the same woman twice. But when Solene walks into his world, he doesn't just break the rules, he creates new ones just for her. What begins as a calculated game quickly spirals into obsession, power plays, and secrets too deadly to stay buried. Because Solene isn't just anyone's ex... she's the woman they should've never underestimated. Can she survive the price of revenge? Or will her heart become the next casualty? And when the truth comes out, will Antonio still choose her... or destroy her?
Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.
"My sister threatens to take my mate. And I let her keep him." Born without a wolf, Seraphina is the disgrace of her pack-until a drunken night leaves her pregnant and married to Kieran, the ruthless Alpha who never wanted her. But their decade-long marriage was no fairytale. For ten years, she endured the humiliation: No Luna title. No mating mark. Just cold sheets and colder stares. When her perfect sister returned, Kieran filed for divorce the same night. And her family was happy to see her marriage broken. Seraphina didn't fight but left silently. However, when danger struck, shocking truths emerged: ☽ That night wasn't an accident ☽ Her "defect" is actually a rare gift ☽ And now every Alpha-including her ex-husband-will fight to claim her Too bad she's done being owned. *** Kieran's growl vibrated through my bones as he pinned me against the wall. The heat of him seared through layers of fabric. "You think leaving is that easy, Seraphina?" His teeth grazed the unmarked skin of my throat. "You. Are. Mine." A hot palm slid up my thigh. "No one else will ever touch you." "You had ten years to claim me, Alpha." I bared my teeth in a smile. "Funny how you only remember I'm yours... when I'm walking away."
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