Page:Arthur Stringer - Gun Runner.djvu/384

 the tightly jacketed midshipmen in the Plaza below him. Then came the hurrying dots and dashes of the Boracao operator:

McKinnon handed the written sheet to Alicia without speaking.

She read it and handed it back to him. Her hand was shaking a little.

"What can we do?" she asked, almost in a whisper.

"There's nothing we can do," was McKinnon's answer. "Our coils are still out of order. They're still too weak to send!"

"But we can't stand here and see the man die—now—in that way!"

McKinnon suddenly held up a hand for silence, for the Princeton was sending again: