Regnier and Dorothy had sat for perhaps half an hour in earnest conversation, when they rose and came over to us.
“Tom,” said Dorothy, “Dick has had more experience with wireless apparatus than you have. Suppose you let him look over the whole business.”
“Glad enough to have him,” answered Tom. “It’s always possible there may be an error somewhere.”
Step by step, Regnier examined the transmitting end of the apparatus, passed from the house to the aerial, came back, and went over the receiving end in every part. As he ended, he straightened up.
“If you don’t mind, Tom, I’d like to change that coherer a little. I should judge that your transmitter was all right, but I question if you could get a reply from Tokio through the coherer, as it now stands connected with that sounder.”
“Go ahead,” said Tom, and I rose from my seat and went over beside Dorothy, while Regnier worked at the powdery mass in the glass tube. He took up the tube at last and held it to the light.
“There, let’s try that,” he said, and placed the tube in its supports, screwing up the terminals. Scarcely had he made the last turn when the sounder broke forth. Clickety clack, clack, clack, clack. Dots and dashes came with the rapidity of a practised sender. Swiftly I read them off, as they came to my telephone receiver.
“I am the man who is trying to stop all war. Is your news true? What do you want of me? Why don’t you answer?”
I jumped to my seat beside the key, and sent the answer out into the ether about us.
“We have only just got your answer through the receiver. Our news is true. All the nations are disarming. Why do you not cease sinking battleships? Your purpose is accomplished.”