Mr. Jenks had no one to whom he wanted to send any word, but Mr. Parker wish to wire to a fellow scientist the result of some observations made in the upper air.
Tom noted all the messages down, and then, when all was in readiness he began to call his home station. He knew that either his father or Mr. Jackson, the engineer, could receive the wireless.
But, no sooner had the young inventor sent off the first few dots and dashes representing “S. I.”—his home station call—than he started and a look of surprise came over his face.
“They're calling us!” he exclaimed.
“Who is?” asked Mr. Jenks.
“My house—my father. He—he's been trying to get us ever since we started, but I didn't have the wireless in shape to receive messages. Oh, I hope it's not too late!”
“Too late! Bless my soul, too late for what?” gasped Mr. Damon, somewhat alarmed by Tom's manner.
The lad did not answer at once. He was intently listening to a series of dots and dashes that clicked in the telephone receiver clamped to his left ear. On his face there was a look of worriment.
“Father has just sent me a message,” he said. “It's a warning flashed through space! He's been trying to get it to me since yesterday!”
“What is it?” asked Mr. Jenks, rising from his seat.