The operator cabled the message. The three men at the end of the room glanced at each other; this evidently was not what they expected.
Steps sounded on the stairs and Peters hurriedly entered.
“The old man's comin',” he said.
Mr. Langley, the superintendent of the station, had been in the company's employ for years. He had been in charge of the Cape Cod station since it was built, and he liked the job. He knew cable work, too, from A to Z, and, though he was a strict disciplinarian, would forgive a man's getting drunk occasionally, sooner than condone carelessness. He was eccentric, but even those who did not like him acknowledged that he was “square.”
He came into the room, tossed a cigar stump out of the window, and nodded to Captain Eri.
“How are you, Captain Hedge?” he said. Then, stepping to the table, he picked up the tape.
“Everything all right, Mr. Hazeltine?” he asked. “Hello! What does this mean? They say they have been calling for two hours without getting an answer. How do you explain that?”
It was very quiet in the room when the electrician answered.
“The recorder here was out of adjustment, sir,” he said simply.
“Out of adjustment! I thought you told me everything was in perfect order before you left this morning.”