“I’m getting worried,” confessed Bert. “It was too stormy to make contact last night so it’s been nearly 36 hours since we’ve heard from Harry and anything can happen out there in mid-ocean.”
“Don’t let your imagination run away with you,” counseled Andy, who admitted to himself that he was afraid some accident had befallen the Neptune. “They’ve probably run into a streak of bad weather and may have submerged to try and ride it out.”
“I’ll try again the first thing in the morning,” said Bert. “We’ve just got to hear from Harry,” he added desperately.
In spite of their fatigue, Andy and Bert passed a restless night and they were up with the first sign of the dawn. Without waiting for breakfast they hurried to the radio room where Bert tuned in on the wave length used for communication between the station at Bellevue and the Neptune.
“Someone’s on the air,” he said quickly. “I can hear the hum of his transmitter; sounds like Harry’s set.”
“Hello, Neptune,” said Bert. “This is the station at Bellevue, Ky., calling for the submarine Neptune, now en route to Plymouth, England. Hello, Neptune, hello!”
Andy bent close to the loud speaker, waiting eagerly for the ether waves to bring a reply to Bert’s call.
It failed to come and Bert repeated his call. Still there was no answer and the call went out a third and then a fourth time.
“I can’t understand his failure to reply,” said Bert. “His set is running.”
“Try it once more,” urged Andy. “Maybe we’ll have better luck.”