"How's she coming? It's 'most noon, Mart."
"Huh? Oh, she's great. I can't find anything wrong, except a little rust. I'll take a look at that transmitting jigger and send out a flash, I guess."
"What's the transmitting jigger?"
"This—the oscillation transformer. It transfers the primary circuit energy, which has low potential, to the aerial circuit, where it reaches a mighty high potential at the free insulated end—"
"Hey! What d'you think I am—a walking 'cyclopaedia?" broke in Bob indignantly. "Cut out that high-flown talk with me, Mart, and get down to where I can collect on you. Going to send a message?"
"Golly, no!" returned Mart, busily, adjusting his current. "We'd have the port officers down on us in a jiffy. It's all right to pick up messages, but to do any private monkey-work by sendin' them is liable to get a fellow in bad. No, I'm just going to see that the sparker's workin' right—"
"Never mind a technical description," broke in Bob. "Just go ahead and I'll be satisfied to watch. But when you get through, there's some stuff down in the cabin that you might like to look over."
"All right," grunted the other, pressing down his key. The blue spark leaped out for a long moment, but Mart was careful not to break it, and with a satisfied nod he threw off the current. The Seamew's wireless, in spite of a year of disuse, was in splendid shape; like other merchant ship stations of modern type, it was almost perfect in its conveniences. The whole transmitting apparatus, from the generator to the aerial tuning inductance, was in a special silence cabinet; this not only kept the noise of the spark and generator down, but shut off all high-tension apparatus from the operator. Mart explained this at some length to his chum.
"It's strictly fool-proof, so I'll give you some lessons when we get out in the ocean," he grinned. "We can send messages all we please there, but not in port."
"Well, you come along down to the cabin," returned Bob ungraciously. He had no knowledge of things mechanical, and no liking for them. His tastes ran to athletics, and by careful cultivation of his body he had made himself the physical equal, or nearly so, of Mart Judson, whose strength and alertness were entirely natural.