For some time Frank tried it towards the south, but no sound came to Tom’s ears, and it was evident that if the plane were in that direction its occupants were not sending.
“Swing it around to the north,” directed Tom “We’ll see if we can pick up anything from Georgetown or any ship.”
Turning, Frank moved the resonance coil around, and the next instant the sharp “dee-dah” of a dot and dash signal buzzed clearly from the receiver. With one accord the Indians tumbled head over heels as they strove to get away from the spot and, with frightened exclamations and terrified faces, picked themselves up and cowered near the fire.
“Peai!” they exclaimed. “Plenty peai! Me tellum no likeum him fellow!” Every one burst out laughing and the Indian paddlers rather shamefacedly attempted to grin at their own fright. But the two Arekunas would have none of it and jabbered together earnestly in their own tongue.
“By glory!” exclaimed the diver. “If they’re that scared at the code signals, wouldn’t they get a jolt if they heard a voice coming in!”
“Thank Heaven they didn’t!” said Mr. Thorne. “If they had, I’m afraid they would all have deserted.”
Meanwhile the sharp “dees” and “dahs” were coming in on the instruments, and Tom, from force of habit, was mentally forming them into letters and words.
“It’s some cipher message,” he announced presently. “No sense to it at all.”
“Take it down,” exclaimed his father, suddenly interested. “It may be for those rascals with the plane.”
Once more the message was coming in and Tom rapidly jotted down the words and handed the paper to his father. “They’re sending the same thing over and over again,” he said. “That’s the third time it’s been repeated.”