“That will be the ticket,” said Garry.
The hotel man got his hat and a screwdriver, and they repaired to the station. Here the hotel man stuck the screwdriver under the window latch, and with a quick snap forced it open.
“Guess I could qualify for a good burglar after this, and I’ll probably catch merry blazes in the morning, but I’ll take a chance,” he said.
He boosted Garry in through the window and followed himself. Once at the instrument, Garry opened the key and began calling for any station. Stations have each a particular letter combination, and there is, in addition, a code combination that calls the nearest man on the line to answer. In a few seconds he got a reply and ticked an explanation that he was at Chester and desired to send an urgent message.
“Who are you, you’re not Campbell,” ticked the man at the other station.
Telegraph operators who are acquainted with each other, can tell the “send” of a telegrapher as easily as a person can recognize the handwriting of a close friend.
Garry explained that he was only an amateur and that he had to get off this emergency message. The explanation evidently satisfied the man, who told him to “shoot” his message, promising to relay it promptly to Colfax.
Here is what Garry sent to his father:
“Come to Chester at once. Most urgent. Please let nothing delay you. Matter of grave importance. Answer immediately.”
He signed his name to it, and then inquired how long the other operator would be on duty. He learned to his gratification that the man would be there until midnight, and promised to relay immediately any answer that would come.