This was the message that went crashing out from the sender of the Ajax.
The aerials took up the question and spread it abroad to all the winds of heaven, but not the faintest whisper came back from the ether to tell that the words had been caught.
Then, with the suddenness of lightning, came another startling appeal.
“Fire is spreading. Ship being abandoned. Help!”
It was maddening to sit there and listen to these futile prayers for succor without being able to do a thing to reply to them.
“Why, oh why, won’t he send his position?” sighed Jack; and again he sent a frantic query volleying along the air waves.
But the receiver remained as silent as the void itself. Not the faintest scratching of an invalid fly’s footsteps came to reward Jack’s vigilance.
Before he could report his failure to the captain that dignitary was back again. He was fairly bubbling with impatience.
“It’s enough to drive a man mad,” he growled. “They must be a crew of lunatics on that ship. I never heard of anything like it. Oh, I’d like to drum some sense into their fool heads!”
“Hullo! Wait a jiffy!” cried Jack, startled out of his customary deference. “By the great horn spoon, here comes something now!”