“Maybe it’s the make-and-break,” he suggested. “I’ll tinker with that.” Which he did, tightening and loosening the spring, separating and bringing nearer the contact points. But it was useless. There was no buzz.
“Are the batteries all right?” asked Tom.
“I’ll test ’em,” was the laconic answer, and in a few minutes the announcement came: “They’re good and strong. If I can get her to start on the batteries I can swing her over onto the magneto, and we’ll be all right. But I can’t get a spark.”
“How about the plugs?” asked Tom.
“I’ll try them next. Oh, there are plenty of things to try.”
“And not much time to do ’em in,” added Tom grimly, as he held the lantern where the gleam would fall best for his companion. “This is fierce, to be delayed this way when there are men and women—yes, maybe children, too—who need saving!”
“Can’t help it!” cried Bill. “We’re doing the best we can.”
With a quick motion he unscrewed the spark plugs from the cylinder heads.
“Here’s trouble already, Tom,” he cried. “They’re all sooted up. Now I’ve got to soak ’em in gasoline and——”
“Maybe there are some spare ones aboard!” suggested the young wireless operator. “Let’s take a look. It’s going to be hard work to clean these old ones in this blow. Besides, I don’t like the idea of fooling with gasoline in an open can, and with a lantern so close.”