"Listen, they're answering again!" cried Frank.
"Why—not—confer—with—Trieste—authorities—will—you—please— telephone—our—agents—to—send—out—tender—to take—off—Admiral— Stuart."
Then came the silence again.
"Yes," sounded the minute electric tongue from the mountain-top, so many miles away. "Good—night!"
"Good—night!" replied the articulate mass of heaving steel, swinging at her anchor chains.
CHAPTER XV
WIRELESS MESSAGES
"What are we to do?" asked Frances Durkin, turning from the masthead to her husband's studious face.
"We've got to jump at our chance, and get on board the Slavonia over there!"