A babel of sound smote his ears. It was after nine o’clock, and at that hour of the night the air in Manhattan was as noisy as Broadway during the rush hour. Everybody was talking at once, including no end of irresponsible amateurs, many of whom could send but not read. When they jammed, no one could tell them what trouble they were making for everybody else. Roy could hear big stations and little talking to one another through hundreds of miles of space. Stations far to the northward were talking directly over Roy’s head, as it were, with stations as far to the southward. Inland operators were conversing with shore stations, and ocean liners were exchanging messages with operators on land. It was as noisy as a five o’clock tea.
Though it was all familiar to Roy, it was as interesting to him as if he were hearing it for the first time. High above the multitude of buzzing sounds rose the shrill whine of the Brooklyn Navy Yard’s rotary spark-gap. Always Roy delighted to listen to the clean, clear work of the Navy Yard operators. Now he tuned sharply and listened.
“NAK—NAK—NAK—NAH,” called the navy operator. (Annapolis-Brooklyn Navy Yard calling.)
“NAH—III—GA,” came the reply almost at once. (Navy Yard. I’m here. Go ahead.)
Roy made a wry face as he took down the message that followed. It was in cipher and he could not read it.
But there was plenty that he could read. The radio station on the Metropolitan tower was shrilly shouting its news to the world. The navy station at Fire Island was talking with a destroyer at sea. Cape May was trying to get some ship far out in the Atlantic. The New York Herald was talking with a ship coming into Boston. Far out at sea the White Star liner Majestic was inquiring whether the Giants or Cincinnati had won the day’s ball game. The Hotel Waldorf was sending a message for a guest to Philadelphia.
Suddenly Roy started violently. His own call was sounding through the air: “WNA—WNA—WNA—WNG.”
It was the Tioga calling her sister ship Lycoming.
“WNG—III—GA,” flashed back Roy the instant the call ended.
“Hello,” came the answer. “This is Patterson. Who are you?”