“What’s that?” asked Bob.
“The static disturbance may clear off at any time, or some fellow listening in may catch our call and then send it to the proper place. If that’s done, help will be rushed to us. But I must admit there’s no telling when this will happen.”
“What can we do if we don’t get any reply?” asked Bob.
“Well, we’ll have to drift on until they can patch up the machinery, I suppose,” the operator replied.
“Can they do that?” Ned questioned.
“I believe they’re going to try,” was the answer. “Anything is better than just drifting around.”
“And yet some ship may sight us at any time,” ventured Bob.
“Yes, that’s true,” was the tired wireless man’s remark. “I’ve been torpedoed twice, and I know what it means to be drifting about waiting for the chance of being picked up. I had hoped I shouldn’t have to go through with it again, but it seems I may have to. Well, the boys are going to keep on trying, and I’ll do my share when I go on duty again.
“I don’t mind the sending off of messages so much,” he concluded, as he continued on his way to the cabin set apart for the use of himself and his companions. “It’s the strain of listening for a reply that gets on my nerves. You hear a click in the earpiece, and you think surely it’s coming. Then it turns out to be just Old Man Static getting in his fine work, or else a jumble of dots and dashes from no one knows where—out of the sky, you might say—and there you are. Four hours of that are enough to wear any one’s nerves to a thread.”
“You said it!” commented Jerry. “Well, good luck to you!”