“If only I had a wireless signal book,” he sighed. “It may be hard to raise anybody, for I don’t know a single local call. Probably I’ll have to send out an SOS. What is the nearest place where they would be likely to have a Marconi station?”
“Probably San Antonio.”
“How far is that in a straight line?”
“I don’t know exactly. Perhaps a hundred and twenty-five miles—possibly a hundred and thirty.”
Roy looked at his batteries dubiously. “I’ll make the effort anyway,” he said. “Maybe they’ll carry that distance.”
“I hope you can get them,” said Roy’s host anxiously. “We need help badly. We especially need soldiers. Looting has begun.”
“Soldiers!” cried Roy. “Why didn’t I think of them before? There’s an army post at Brownsville. How far is that?”
“About the same distance as San Antonio.”
“Thank heaven I know their call signal,” cried Roy.
He pressed his finger to his key. Blue sparks leaped across his spark-gap. “WUZ—WUZ—WUZ,” he flashed.