mpered with. Look where pliers have been used to
cut the wire connections. See where these two bolts have been neatly
removed with the help of wrenches. Look at----"

Joe paused, then glanced wildly around.

"Great Scott!" he groaned. "Just the parts removed that can't be
replaced. The whole generating plant crippled! Mr. Seaton, until we
get in touch with the mainland, and get some needed supplies there, we
can't use this wireless plant again. We can receive messages--yes, up
to any limit, but not a word can we send away from here."

"But who can have done this trick?" gasped Powell Seaton, looking as
though amazement had numbed him, as, indeed, it almost had.

"Someone has landed here, since dark," broke in Tom Halstead, all
a-quiver with dismay. "While we were at supper some sneak or sneaks
have landed on this island. They have pried their way in here, and
they've crippled our connection with the outside world."

"They could do it all easily enough, without making any noise,"
confirmed Joe. "Yes--they've done a splendid job, from a scoundrel's
point of view!"

"Then you can't make this apparatus work for the sending of even a
single message?" demanded Mr. Seaton.

"Not until we've landed some necessary repair and replacement
materials from the mainland," replied Joe, with a disgusted shake of
his head.

"But you can still send messages from the 'Restless,'" hinted Powell
Seaton.

Tom Halstead bounded for the door of the dynamo shed with a sudden
exclamation of dread.

"We can use the boat's wireless," nodded Joe, following, and speaking
over his shoulder, "unless the same crowd of rascals have broken into
the boat's motor room or cabin and played us the same trick there."

In the big sitting room, beside the large open fire-place, was a pile
of long sticks of firewood. Tom Halstead stopped to snatch up one of
these, and Joe quickly followed suit.

"I'll go down to the boat with you, boys," said Mr. Seaton, who had
followed them. "If there's anyone around to put up a fight you'll want
some help."

But Captain Tom, acting, for the moment, as though he were aboard the
yacht, suddenly took command.

"Mr. Seaton," he said, "you'd better remain here to guard your
unconscious friend. Doctor, wake up! Better go in and send Hank Butts
out on the trot. We'll take him with us."

Dr. Cosgrove, awaking and realizing that something important was
happening, swiftly moved off to the sick-room. Hank was speedily o