Tom clapped the receiver to his ear, and, even before it was in place he noted the clicking of the diaphragm, which told that the electric current was operating through the magnets. Then came a snap, as when a central telephone operator accidently “rings the bell” into one’s ear. It was as though all the powerful current had concentrated itself into the receiver.
“Great Scott!” cried Tom. “With this storm I may get a shock if I’m not careful!”
He looked to his instruments, and glanced at the connections. They seemed to be in perfect order, and he was as well safeguarded as was possible.
There was a silence, and then more of the pounding in the receiver. The lad was forced to move it away from his ear, for it nearly deafened him.
“This is fierce!” he cried, as a terrific clap of thunder, following a vivid lightning flash, seemed fairly to shake the tower.
The instrument acted incoherently for the minute succeeding, and Tom could not make out the message that was coming. He sprang to the ropes that connected a tackle with the aerials aloft and ran the netting up into tune.
“She’s coming clear now,” said Tom.
“Y-3, off Garvey Rocks,” ran the message. “Machinery broken and drifting. Send help. Steamer Olivia.”
Tom recoiled with a shock. The Olivia!! That was the steamer upon which Grace Morgan and her aunt were passengers!