Having heard the latest of two great events in the world of sport that were taking place in almost diametrically opposite parts of the globe, Burgoyne exclaimed:
"Well, any more news? Don't be a mouldy messmate. Hand over half that paper—the part you've read."
"Take this one, Burgoyne," said Withers, the Second Engineer. "There's another boat missing—a week overdue. That's the second this month, an' both between 'Frisco and Kobe."
"Yes, the Alvarado," added the purser. "Wasn't that the vessel we sighted off the Sandwich Islands, Burgoyne?"
"Yes, I was officer of the watch," he replied.
"Well, she's gone without a trace as far as we know," said Withers. "And the Kittiwake went in similar circumstances. If the Alvarado had sent out an S.O.S. we should have got it, I suppose. What's the distance—ah, here's our Signor Marconi or our Mark Antony, whatever you please. Say, young fellah-me-lad, what's our wireless radius?"
This question was addressed to Mostyn, a tall slim youth who had just entered the mess-room. His uniform proclaimed him to be one of the wireless operators.
"Two hundred and fifty by day; six hundred by night," replied Mostyn, who then proceeded with the characteristic fervour of a wireless man to let fly a battery of technical terms and formulae.
"'Vast heaving, my lad," interrupted the Second Engineer, with a jovial laugh. "You've floored me. I feel like that young Canuk must have felt when he was shown over the ship last Monday."
"What was that?" inquired the purser.