"He will tell us all in good time," rejoined the other, "and now instead of wasting speculation on something we are bound not to find out till we do find it out, let's go aft to the wireless room and polish up a bit."
The Southern Cross carried a wireless apparatus which had been specially installed for her polar voyage. The aerials stretched from her main to mizzen mast and a small room, formerly a storeroom, below the raised poop containing the cabins had been fitted up for a wireless room. In this the boys had spent a good deal of time during their convalescence from sea-sickness and had managed to "pick-up" many vessels within their radius,—which was fifteen hundred miles under favorable conditions.
Frank was the first to clap on the head-receiver this morning and he sat silently for a while absently clicking out calls, to none of which he obtained an answer. Suddenly, however, his face grew excited.
"Hullo," he cried, "here's something."
"What?" demanded Harry.
"I don't know yet," he held up his hand to demand silence.
"That's queer," he exclaimed, after a pause, in which the receiver had buzzed and purred its message into his ear.
The others looked their questions.
"There's something funny about this message," he went on. "I cannot understand it. Whoever is calling has a very weak sending current. I can hardly hear it. One thing is certain though, it's someone in distress."
The others leaned forward eagerly, but their curiosity was not satisfied immediately by Frank. Instead his face became set in concentration once more. After some moments of silence, broken only by the slight noise of the receiver, he pressed his hand on the sending apparatus and the Southern Cross's wireless began to crackle and spit and emit a leaping blue flame.