“Prove it.”
“That’ll stump old Frank,” chuckled Bob, in an aside. But he was mistaken.
“All right,” replied Frank, confidently. “Do you know what my assignment is?”
“Yes,” answered JSN, impudently. “Do you?”
“I’m after Lupo the Wolf,” tapped Frank. “Now call Captain Jameson.”
“You’re not MacDonald,” replied JSN, “because he doesn’t know the code. But you must be speaking for him, for that’s right about his assignment. I’ll call Captain Jameson. You wait.”
“All right,” tapped Frank.
Then he turned to the eager MacDonald, who was itching to inquire what was occurring, but had restrained himself until he should be appealed to by Frank, in order not to interrupt. Like all men unfamiliar with telegraphy, whether wireless or by wire, he stood in awe of an operator, and believed it would be terrible, indeed, to interrupt that superior being. Frank took pity now on his curiosity, as well as on that of Farnum, Dick and Art, crowding behind him, and explained what had happened.
“And you actually got the Post?” asked MacDonald, doubt in his voice.
Frank nodded.