The Lucie was perhaps seventy feet long and a most attractive craft, with a hull yachty in appearance and of a type which could safely make long runs along the coast, a stanch, seaworthy boat, of course without the speed of the regularly designed yacht, but more than making up in comfort for those on board what was lost in that way. Waldon pointed out with obvious pride his own trim yacht swinging gracefully at anchor a half mile or so away.
As we approached the houseboat I looked her over carefully. One of the first things I noticed was that there rose from the roof the primitive inverted V aërial of a wireless telegraph. I thought immediately of the unfinished letter and its contents, and shaded my eyes as I took a good look at the powerful transatlantic station on the spit of sand perhaps three or four miles distant, with its tall steel masts of the latest inverted L type and the cluster of little houses below, in which the operators and the plant were.
Waldon noticed what I was looking at, and remarked, “It’s a wonderful station—and well worth a visit, if you have the time—one of the most powerful on the coast, I understand.”
“How did the Lucie come to be equipped with wireless?” asked Craig quickly. “It’s a little unusual for a private boat.”
“Mr. Edwards had it done when she was built,” explained Waldon. “His idea was to use it to keep in touch with the stock market on trips.”
“And it has proved effective?” asked Craig.
“Oh, yes—that is, it was all right last winter when he went on a short cruise down in Florida. This summer he hasn’t been on the boat long enough to use it much.”
“Who operates it?”
“He used to hire a licensed operator, although I believe the engineer, Pedersen, understands the thing pretty well and could use it if necessary.”
“Do you think it was Pedersen who used it for Mrs. Edwards?” asked Kennedy.