Roy had often picked these nightly news reports from the air, but never before had they meant to him what this message meant now. Always before, he had been on land and had read in the evening papers much of the news included in the nightly news-letter. Now he was at sea. Every hour carried the Lycoming farther from shore. By morning, perhaps, she would be out of sight of land. Already Roy was beginning to feel that sense of isolation, of loneness, that comes to first voyagers on the sea. When he thought of all the ships that had gone down and all the people who had perished when help was really but a few hours distant, he thrilled anew at the thought that he could talk to other ships, even if they were hundreds of miles away, and so get help or bring help. With this thought came a new sense of the importance of his post. Truly his was a vital share in sailing the ship. It called for the best there was in him.
By the time he had copied the weather-report and the news-letter, it was so late he thought the captain was probably asleep. Every night since Roy came aboard, he had sent the weather-report to Captain Lansford as soon as he had received it. The captain had never acknowledged the receipt of these messages nor indicated that he was pleased to have them. Yet Roy thought the commander ought to know about the weather. He was in a quandary. Should he risk the wrath of the captain by taking the message to him, or should he wait until morning and send it? Roy thought the matter over.
“I’m going to take it to him,” he said, finally. “He ought to have this report and I’ll see that he gets it, no matter what happens.”
He picked up the sheet of paper, skipped down the ladder, and presently found himself before the door of the captain’s cabin. His rather hesitating knock was greeted by a gruff voice from within.
“What do you want?”
“This is the wireless man with the weather-report and the night’s news, Captain,” replied Roy.
An angry exclamation was Roy’s answer. The door was flung open, and the captain, in his pajamas, stood in the doorway, boiling with wrath.
“Weather-report!” he bellowed contemptuously. “Weather-report! What do I want of your weather-reports? Don’t you know better than to come battering at my door in the middle of the night? I left word that I should not be disturbed, and here you come bothering me with weather-reports. I’ll have obedience on shipboard, sir, or I’ll put you in irons. Now get out. And don’t you ever bother me again with your weather-reports.”
“But, Captain Lansford,” objected Roy, “I thought you might want to know the news, and I have the day’s news-letter as well as the weather-report. I did not know that you were asleep or that you had left orders not to be disturbed. I am sorry, sir. I only wished to be of use, not to annoy you.”