It galvanized Roy into action. The blood surged through his heart. With eager, trembling fingers he flung back a reply.
“Who are you? I have your signal of distress.”
For what seemed an age he waited for an answer. Outside, the wind was howling like a pack of demons. The wireless house shook and trembled under its awful blasts. The ship plunged from side to side. Roy clung to his table as he sat, tense and rigid, waiting for a reply.
“Who are you?” he flashed again. “I have your signal of distress.”
Again he waited. Would the wireless play him false at such a critical minute? Were the atmospherics to trick him again?
Then it came. “Steamer Empress, Rudder broken. Drifting helpless.”
“Where are you?” flashed back Roy. “What is your latitude and longitude?”
Crash! Bang! A terrible sea swept over the Lycoming. She heeled far over. Something had given way. Something was wrong with his wireless. Trembling, Roy ran to his door and peered out. His aerial was gone. It might take hours perhaps to rig a new one, even if he could get it up in the gale. What should he do? He must get the Empress’ reply. Roy leaped to the deck. The broken lead-in wire was whipping in the wind. Quick as thought, he snatched it up and ran back into the wireless house with it. He scraped the insulation from the broken end and dived under his couch. In a second he had attached the end of the wire to the couch spring. In another he was back at his table, receivers clamped to his head. Tense, breathless, rigid, he listened. Would it work? Could he hear?
Then it came. “Latitude 28. Longitude 96.”
That was all he needed. Throwing his receivers aside, Roy picked up his telephone. Again he signaled the bridge. There was no response. He signaled sharply. No answer came. Again and again Roy tried to get the captain. The telephone was silent. Either it had been broken or the captain had been washed away by the awful sea that had struck the ship. In either case there was nothing to do but take the message to the bridge himself. Roy leaped to his feet and ran out of the wireless house, utterly forgetful of wind and wave. Slipping, scrambling, clutching rails and stanchions, Roy fought his way forward. There was but one thought in his mind—to get the news to the captain. The latter was still at his post, though the bridge rail was partly gone and the wheel-house was stove in. The telephone apparatus was smashed beyond recognition. Putting his mouth to the captain’s ear, Roy shouted, “Steamer Empress drifting with broken rudder. Latitude 28; longitude 96.”