“Are you sure it isn’t a joke?”
“Not on my part, I do assure you,” declared the radio man.
“Then,” said Belding slowly, “I believe somebody is trying to communicate a message and for some reason can’t quite put it through.”
“Did you get the word ‘Colodia’?” Sparks asked quickly.
“No, sir. But one word I believe I did get,” said the young fellow gravely.
“What’s that?”
“‘Help,’” Belding repeated. “‘H-e-l-p, Help.’ That’s what I got and all I got. I do not think I am mistaken in that!”
CHAPTER XIX—A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION
Had George Belding not been such a stubborn fellow he never would have stuck to his opinion about the strange call received by the Colodia’s radio men, by wireless telegraph. For neither the chief, called Sparks, nor his assistants or students (the latter scornfully entitled “hams”) had spelled anything like “help” out of the strange sounds to which Belding’s attention had been called.
“Don’t tell me such stuff,” insisted the chief. “That’s as old as the hills, George. When I first went into wireless, it used to be the standing joke to feed the student a ‘Help! We are lost’ call to steady his nerves. It was called C D Q in those old times.”