“That’s a good idea!” exclaimed Joe, and he rushed for the telephone, while Bob sent out the call for help for the Horolusa.
“Central must be asleep!” exclaimed Joe impatiently. “I can’t get any answer at all to this blamed thing,” and he worked the hook up and down, but to no effect.
Meanwhile Bob had had better success with his instrument, and had got into communication with two ships that promised to go immediately to the aid of the Horolusa. They were both only a few miles from that unfortunate vessel, so when at last Bob left the key, the load of anxiety that had lain so heavily on his heart was considerably lightened.
“What’s the matter, Joe?” he inquired of his friend, who was still making frantic but ineffectual efforts to get into communication with the life saving station. “Can’t you get any answer?”
“Not a word, worse luck!” exclaimed Joe. “I guess the wires must have been blown down by the storm.”
“Yes, or they might have been cut by the thief before he attacked Mr. Harvey,” suggested Herb, struck by a sudden thought.
“I’ll bet that’s just what’s the trouble!” exclaimed Joe. “I’m going outside and investigate.”
He caught up a flashlight that was lying on the table, and dashed outside, followed by the others. Sure enough, the telephone wires had been cut a few feet above the ground. Evidently the thief had planned everything carefully.
“Good night!” ejaculated Joe disgustedly. “No wonder I couldn’t get any answer. And all the time I was blaming the poor operator for being asleep.”
When the boys went inside again they found Brandon Harvey sitting up, and he declared that he felt a good deal better.