The captain, meantime, had snatched up a chart. “Latitude 28, longitude 96,” he repeated, as he ran his finger over the chart. His ruddy face whitened as he found the spot. “Only thirty-five miles off a lee shore,” he muttered, “and one hundred and thirty miles from here. Can I get to him in time?”
He turned to the man at the wheel and laid a new course for him. Then he sprang to a speaking-tube and ordered the chief engineer to crowd on every ounce of steam he could make. As the steersman swung the Lycoming to her new course she heeled far over. Then she righted and rode more steadily than before. The tempest had changed from northwest to west and the Lycoming was racing along almost with it. Though not directly astern, waves and wind were both driving the Lycoming forward. Soon she was tearing through the water at a rate she had never known before. Her very speed steadied her.
Roy, meantime, had rushed into the wireless house to test his apparatus. It appeared to work perfectly. Satisfied, he battled his way to the bridge again and reported to the captain.
“The damage is repaired, sir.”
The captain showed him the positions on the chart. “Tell Charley we’re coming,” he roared. “Find out just where he is, how he got there, and what he’s doing.”
Roy left the bridge and faced toward the wireless house. Now he was heading almost straight into the wind. It seemed to him the tempest was worse than ever. He could not advance a step. Desperately he clung to a stanchion. He dared not try to walk across the few feet of deck to the hand-rail on the superstructure lest he be picked up bodily and flung into the sea. He dropped to his knees, and fairly hugging the deck, crept fearfully over to the rail. There he was partly sheltered from the direct blasts. Crouching low and pulling himself along with arms and feet, he fought his way to the wireless house. It did not seem possible that a wind could be so terrible.
Roy adjusted his receivers, threw over his switch, and sent the Empress’ call signal flashing forth. “KKK—KKK—KKK de WNA.”
Then he waited anxiously. Would he get a reply, or would the atmospherics trick him again? At one hundred and thirty miles’ distance he ought to communicate with the Empress easily. He was not long in suspense. Promptly a wireless signal buzzed in his ears.
“WNA de KKK. Have been calling you steadily.”