“What’s the program?” he asked eagerly.
“You are to go up to the house at once, Ben. My father has the team hitched up and is waiting for you. A hired man is going, too, and the constable. Telephone your folks from the house that you may be away till morning. When you do come back, report here right away.”
“All right, Tom.”
“Storm signals are out, and one of us will have to stay on duty to-night.”
The sky had been overcast all the morning. Long before dusk the forewarnings of a heavy storm were discoverable, and Tom realized an impending occasion when he was expected to exercise unusual vigilance.
At dark one of the field hands came to the tower with a warm supper sent by Tom’s mother. He chatted with Tom for half an hour and left in a wild flurry of wind and rain.
By eight o’clock the full fury of the gale broke on land, already dangerous at sea, as Tom had noticed for some time previous. The wind arose to a hurricane, the rain came in sheets, and at times the thunder and lightning became terrific.
Tom was in constant readiness for service. His ear was close to the receiver. He knew from experience what these tempestuous nights meant for those at sea.
Suddenly there was a sharp series of sputtering, crackling sounds. Then the receiver gave: “y-3——y-3——y-3.”
Tom thrilled. It was the first time in his experience as a wireless operator that the signal most dreaded had come into Station Z, for the quickly repeated letter and its accompanying numeral meant that some vessel at sea was in dire distress.