Page:The Wireless Operator with the U.S. Coast Guard.djvu/283

 On the Iroquois, meanwhile, time passed slowly. There was nothing for the sailors to do but sit about and wait for the return of their comrades. In the radio house both Belford and Harper were trying to possess themselves in patience. They sat with their feet up on the desk, talking, with the wireless coupled up to the loud speaker. Whenever a message sounded, they paused in their talk to listen.

“Just hear that. You might think it came from next door,” said Henry, as a sudden signal fairly burst from the loud speaker. “Only that isn’t the Orient’s call.”

OIN was calling RET. “They’re queer calls,” commented Belford. “I never heard either before.”

RET answered OIN almost immediately, and in another instant the message was booming in the loud speaker. Belford copied it as it came. “No fish to-day. Held up by sharks. All safe aloft.”

“Well, that’s a queer message,” said Henry. “Some fishermen with a wireless outfit, I suppose, telling a customer he has nothing for him. Probably been out in a gale, and escaped damage to his top-hamper. I can’t understand about the sharks, though. They might scare away the fish, but I don’t see how they could hold up a boat.”

They resumed their conversation. Time