“We are marooned on a small island. Skull Island. Send help.� Then followed the bearings of the island just as Raynor had taken them from the course pricked off on Terror Carson’s chart.
Jack, without waiting even to transmit a report to Captain Simms, switched on the transmitting current. Then he began to make the wireless crack and whistle as flash after flash volleyed out at his crisp decisive handling of the key.
“Skull Island! Skull Island! Skull Island!� he crackled out from the aërials of the Thespis.
But what appeared to be an eternity passed and no answer came. Jack had some time since made his report to Captain Simms, who had informed him that Skull Island was a speck on the map some 250 miles to the north-west of their present position. The whole ship buzzed with excitement. Every now and then an officer’s head would be poked in the door of the wireless room to know if any answer had been received yet.
“It is the most unique situation I ever heard of,� declared Captain Simms. “I am half inclined to believe it may be some trick. How could anyone, on such a forsaken spot as Skull Island, which is a mere mass of rocks and stunted shrubs, have a wireless station?�
But Jack kept patiently at his task. His young assistant, Bill Higgins, helped him as much as he could. Higgins was a young sailor who had shown aptitude for wireless work and had been “broken in� under Jack’s predecessor.
“Anything yet?� he asked as he reéntered the wireless room after scurrying forward with a message to Captain Simms that the air was still silent as the grave.
Jack gave a negative sign.
“I’m going to try more juice,� he said, “there’s a lot of interference this morning. I’ve got to tune it out. Fix up that weeding-out circuit like a good fellow.�
“The tertiary one?� asked Higgins.