Then the instrument rasped again: "Station 364 calling U. S. Cruiser Comerford. Bearings north west by three west. Bearings north west by three west, U. S. Cruiser Comerford from Cay 364."
Commander and navigator had both scribbled verifications of the numbers. Ignoring the gibbering Androka, who was wailing his disappointment that messages had penetrated his veil of silence, they raced for the chart room.
Quickly the parallels stepped off the bearing from the designated points. Light intersecting lines proclaimed a check on their position.
Curtis frowned and shook his head. Slowly he forced a reluctant grin as he stuck out his hand.
"Shake, Nels," he said. "It's my turn to eat crow. You and the radio must be right. Continue as you were!"
"I'm relieved, sir, just the same," Nelson admitted, "to have the radio bearings. We'd have piled up sure if you'd been right."
They went on through the night. The starlit gap in the clouds had closed. The sky was again a blanket of darkness pouring sheets of rain at them.