Bright and early the next morning, you may depend upon it, the boys
were at work. They experienced some little difficulty in locating
where Terror Carson had kept the instruments. But they ultimately
found them in his cabin which, luckily, was not on the submerged
side of the tilted vessel.
A long, slender spar was towed from the schooner to Camp Hope. This
was to act as an aërial. Raynor experienced a good deal of
difficulty in establishing his station. While he was a competent
operator, thanks to Jack’s untiring instruction, he was unfamiliar
with connecting the instrument. Luckily, however, an instruction
book formed a part of the set and this aided him not a little in his
task.
Power for the current was supplied by a device especially made for
sailing ships where electric or steam power is not available. It
consisted of a dynamo and batteries run and charged by operating
pedals very much as is done on a bicycle. Raynor found that he could
get ample current with this device.
It was a great day when all was ready for the test. The instruments
had been installed inside the hut. Outside rose the tall, slender
mast supporting the aërials. Raynor was not without a thrill as he
took his place at the key. Noddy and Pompey stared at him as if he
had been a wizard. He pressed down the key, and the great spark
jumped with a hissing explosion between the points.
“Wow!” yelled Pompey, in great alarm, “look at de green snake. Will
him bite Massa Raynor?”
“He would if you put your fingers on it,” laughed Raynor, “you’d get
a shock that would lay you out for a week--so be warned and never
monkey with the apparatus.”
“No, sah, deed ah won’ do dat ting,” Pompey assured him with a
positive shake of the head. “Dis chile ull certainly not trouble dat
dere spatteratus no time.”
“How’s she work?” asked Noddy.
“Alright as far as I can make out. I’m sending out the S.O.S. call
now with all the current I can get.”
“The S.O.S., what’s that mean?”
“Why, it’s a call for help.”
“I see. Means Sunk or Sinkin’, eh?”
“Something like that,” smiled Raynor.
“Do dat lilly spark snake send out words jes’ like dat?” asked
Pompey.
“Yes; it transmits dots and dashes to the aërials and then they form
electric waves which, in time, strike other aërials and give the
message.”
“All dat talk about overalls done mystify me,” muttered Pompey, “dat
’lectricity go charging frum your overalls till it hits some other
feller’s overalls, is dat it?”
“Something like it,” rejoined Raynor, “but it’s aërials, not
overalls.”
“Oh, hair-oils,” said Pompey, “now ah understan’s puffickly. De
’lectricity frum yo’ hair-oils hits de udder hair-oils an den de
udder feller hears de same spots and splashes dat you’ve bin a
sendin’ out.”
“That’s it, but make it dots and dashes instead of spots and
splashes.”
Raynor had hardly expected an answer to his first call. But he was a
little discouraged when night came and he had received no answer
from space. He wondered if he had set the apparatus up correctly. He
had followed closely the directions in the book. Still, he might
have made a mistake, and a mistake would be fatal to the success of
his wireless.
He could see that Noddy and Pompey were skeptical about the wireless
plant working at all. When no answer came their faith plainly began
to waver. He spent the evening figuring out their exact latitude and
longitude on the chart he had brought from Captain Carson’s cabin.
It gave their position exactly and Raynor memorized it so as to be
able to flash it out when the time came.
“Well, all I’ve got to say is that if wese is dependin’ on dat mouse
cage uv wire and dat lectric spark to git us offen de island, we got
a mighty slim chance uv ever giving the good-bye,” said Noddy after
supper.
“Dat lilly snake seem pretty ter look at but dem hair-oils don’ seem
ter be circumambulatin’ dose spots an’ splashes in jes’ de way dey
ought to,” added Pompey.
“Oh, have a little patience,” said Raynor, “we’ll attract attention
in time. The atmospheric conditions may not have been just right.”
“When you tink dem hysteric conditions will be salubrious fer dem
hair-oils?” inquired Pompey.
“Well, you noticed to-day that it was rather foggy. The Hertzian
waves don’t travel as well in such weather.”
“I ’spose dey calls ’em Hurtsome waves on account ob de way dat
snaky spark ’ull hurt yo’ if yo’ grab it,” said Pompey.
“The wireless transmission is usually better at night,” went on
Raynor. “I mean to try again before we turn in.”
But his efforts met with no better success than during the day.
Tired out, and not a little disappointed, he went to bed where even
his vexation over his failure failed to keep him awake.
When he opened his eyes in the morning the first thing he saw was
Pompey bending over the wireless table and looking with eyes that
popped out of his head at the twin “telephone” receivers that lay
there.
“What’s the matter, Pompey?” asked the boy sleepily.
“Ah dunno. Dere’s something mighty obstropulous about dis here
contrivance. I tink dere’s a spook or a hoodoo in it.”
“Don’t talk such nonsense. What’s the matter?”
“Ah dunno. But ah’m plum scared.”
“Don’t be absurd, Tell me what’s up?”
“Whay dis yer telafoam looking ting am makin’ queer noises.”
“WHAT!”
“It jes keeps clicking and tapping lak dere was suthin’ alive in
it.”
Raynor was out of his blankets in a flash. His eyes blazed with
excitement as he dashed across the room.
“Why, you Senegambian chump,” he yelled, “that’s somebody trying to
talk to us!”