“Ya’as, sah.”
“Well, it’s the same thing in wireless. Instead of a pond you’ve got the air, or the atmosphere; instead of a stone, you’ve got an electric impulse from the antenna.”
“An’ when dat eccentric ’pulse go ’way from dose—dose—aunties, it jes’ spread and spread like de ripples on a pond?”
“Yes. The waves spread till they strike another wireless apparatus ‘in tune’ with them.”
“An’ yo’ birdcage fiddle was tuned to de same pitch as de Sea King’s?”
“That’s right, Jupe. You’re catching on fast We both use three hundred meter waves. That was agreed upon. Thus, you see, our station caught the message from the disabled yacht.”
“Humph! But s’pose dere was some odder station dat had its fiddle tuned de percise same way?”
“Why, then they’d have caught the message, too.”
“An’ dey’d know, too, dat de po’ Sea King done busted?”
“I suppose so,—yes. But why do you ask?”