“It’s a message from somebody and from somewhere; and I’m awfully interested, too,” declared Belding. “I wish you’d let me listen in again.”
“Oh, I’ll do that little thing for you,” agreed Sparks. “If there is nothing much doing in radio in the afternoon watch, come around again.”
With this promise George Belding contented himself. He told Whistler and the other boys he was going to set down every letter of the mystery message that he could comprehend, and see afterward just what could be made out of them—sense or nonsense!
CHAPTER XXII—THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP
Having delivered the survivors of the Susanne to the greater comforts of an Italian liner bound eastward, the Colodia’s own course was set for the south and west. Her commander and crew hoped to pick up news of the Sea Pigeon once again. At any rate, the German raider had been last seen making off toward the West Indies and the Caribbean.
The destroyer was below the Tropic of Cancer now, and the weather was exceedingly hot. A dress of dungaree trousers and sleeveless undershirt was the most popular uniform forward of the bridge, decided Donahue.
“The brass hats who have to fairly live in their uniforms are greatly to be pitied.”
Drills were not pushed, and many duties became merely a matter of form.
Yet there was a very serious train of thought in the minds of the Seacove boys and George Belding, as has been shown. There had been uncertainty enough regarding the voyage of the Redbird to Bahia; but since the beginning of what the radio men called the “ghost talk” out of the air, the five friends had all felt a greater measure of anxiety.
Of course, it was by no means certain that these letters in Morse that suggested the name Redbird had anything to do with Mr. Belding’s ship and her company. Yet, not having heard in any form from the party bound for Bahia since the ship left New York, it was not strange that George Belding and Phil Morgan, at least, should be especially troubled in their minds.