“Would you like to say ‘How do you do’ to the operator on the Iroquois?”
“Be tickled to death,” said Henry.
“Very well. Do it,” said the operator.
Henry sat down at the Viking’s key and threw on the power. “NTE—NTE—NTE—de—WXY,” he flashed. And, almost before he had taken his finger from the key, there came crackling in his ear the reply: “WXY—WXY—WXY—de—NTE—K.”
Even had he been a thousand miles away, Henry would not have needed to inquire who was sending. There could be no mistaking the smooth, even, rapid telegraphing of Mr. Sharp.
“Hello, Mr. Sharp,” rapped out Henry. “This is Henry Harper. The operator has been courteous enough to allow me to use his equipment. The Viking is a very interesting boat.”
Henry almost said she was a mighty curious old tub, but he remembered in time that his host could read all he was sending. He was about to add more, when he saw the lieutenant and the doctor step on deck. So he said good-bye, thanked the operator for his courtesy, and joined the little group from the Iroquois.
The more he saw of the freighter, the more he was pleased with his own little boat. The Viking’s wireless did not compare with the equipment of the Iroquois, any more than the rest of the boat compared with the cutter for comfort and looks. If there was anything lacking to make Henry sure of the difference, he found it when the doctor went into the forecastle, to treat a sick sailor.
Henry went, too, but he did not remain long. The frightful smell in the crew’s quarters almost sickened him. Everything was dirty and foul and disorderly. Henry knew that in the crew’s quarters on the Iroquois, though there was not much room, and there was more or less odor from the cook’s galley, at least everything was scrupulously neat and spotlessly clean. All that he saw made Henry the more certain that he had chosen wisely in planning to get into the Coast Guard service. And when he stepped to the deck and found himself at close quarters with the crew, he knew he had made no mistake. Some American sailors might be “tough,” he thought, but they were a million times more desirable as shipmates than these unintelligible Orientals.
Henry was glad enough when the doctor at last reappeared on the deck and prepared to return to the cutter. Good-byes were said, the Viking’s captain thanked the doctor and the lieutenant, Henry called farewell to the wireless man, and in a minute or two the little party from the cutter was bobbing up and down again on the waves, on the way to the Iroquois. Then the small boat was hoisted, swung inboard, and made fast. The ship’s propeller began to revolve, the water foamed at the bow, and, swinging into her course once more, the Iroquois was soon speeding toward Boston.