The elder brother raised his head above the pilot-house railing but the flash that illumined the object that caused Harry’s exclamation had died out.
“It was a steamer and she’ll pass right below us,” roared Harry.
“How can we attract their attention,” shouted back Frank.
“There’s one chance in a thousand and we’ll take it,” was the response of the youth at the wheel.
“Send out a wireless call.”
Frank leaped to the sending apparatus of the Golden Eagle’s wireless plant. To his delirious delight it was working perfectly despite the ship’s buffeting.
Even as he stripped off the cover, and lowered the ground rope which was interwoven with strands of phosphor bronze wire, though, he realized what a long chance it was they were taking. The steamer was nearer by this time. They could in fact see her lights below them; but she seemed a small craft, as well as they in their frenzied excitement at the sudden vision of hope that flamed up in them, could make out. It was unlikely she carried wireless. But, as Harry had said, it was one chance in a thousand. With a fervent prayer that it might be that ten hundredth chance, Frank sent the spark flashing and leaping across the crackling gap.
Dot—dot—dot! Dot—dot! Dot—dot—dot!
It was the universal signal of desperate need that his trembling fingers spelled out: S. O. S.![[1]]
If there were a ship fitted with wireless within the radius of their call she would come to their assistance, but both boys realized that that help would be too late to do them any good. Their one chance lay in securing the immediate attention of the craft below them.