The Ocean Wireless Boys and the Lost Liner Part 13

CHAPTER XVI

S. O. S.

Dawn showed a smudge of black smoke on the far horizon which might or might not have been the mysterious visitant of the night. At any rate, by noon something occurred which quite put out of Jack's mind, and those of the ship's officers, who were considerably exercised over the midnight signals, all thoughts of the secretive craft.

To Jack, seated at his instruments, there had suddenly come a sharp call:

"S.O.S.-S.O.S.-S.O.S."

Coming as it did, like a bolt from the blue, the urgent call thrilled the young operator. He galvanized into action instantly and sent Sam scurrying to the bridge with word that the most urgent call that can a.s.sail a wireless man's ears had just come to him.

It was faint and far away, but that very fact made it evident to Jack's experienced mind that whoever was sending the message, was in dire straits and running out of current.

He pressed his key and sent thundering out with all the volleying force of his powerful dynamos, an answer.

"What ship are you?" he demanded.

The answer that came back almost knocked him out of his chair.

"The airship _Adventurer_, from New Orleans to Havana. We are on the surface of the water and sinking rapidly."

"Your position, quick!" demanded Jack.

Back through s.p.a.ce, in a slowly dying wireless voice, came the lat.i.tude and longitude of the luckless craft.

"You are on our course. Stand by and we will pick you up," said Jack, whom a rapid glance at the wall map had shown that, roughly, the sinking air-craft was not more than twenty miles to the southwest of the _Tropic Queen's_ position.

"What has happened?" asked Jack.

"No time explain details. Hurry! Hurry!--"

Jack tried to get the unseen operator once more, but a silence that was far more eloquent than words alone greeted his efforts. He turned to see the captain, in his white uniform and gold-laced cap, standing behind him.

"What is this S.O.S., Ready?" he demanded. "What craft is in distress?"

"An airship, sir. The _Adventurer_, bound from New Orleans for Havana, Cuba."

"By Neptune! I recall now reading that two aviators were going to make such a foolhardy attempt."

"What kind of an air-craft is she, sir? Do you recall?"

"Why, one of those flying-boats, as they are called, I believe."

"A big aeroplane fitted with a boat's hull?"

"That's the idea. But did they give you their position?"

Jack handed over the figures.

"Here they are, sir. But the current from the drifting airship was so weak that I cannot be absolutely certain as to their accuracy."

"Well, we'll have to take them for what they are worth," said the captain, scanning them.

"Roughly, they are on our course, sir," ventured Jack.

"Yes, we can almost make a landfall on them if you got the positions right. I'll have full speed ahead signaled. Poor fellows, their plight must be desperate!"

He hastened off to give the necessary orders, while Jack went back to his instruments; but, although he tried with all his might to get another whisper, he could hear nothing.

Either the wrecked airship had gone to the bottom, or else, water having reached her storage batteries, she could no longer send out word.

But Jack raised another ship,-the _City of Mexico_ of the Vera Cruz line.

"What's biting you?" the flippant operator inquired.

"Just got word that a wrecked airship is floating about on the sea,"

flashed back Jack, and gave the lat.i.tude and longitude.

"Why, we'll be there almost as soon as you," was the reply.

"All right, let's make it a race," called Jack. "It is one for a good cause."

"Surest thing you know. See you later."

The _City of Mexico's_ wireless man cut off. The third officer came into the wireless room.

"Ready, the old man wants you to make out a bulletin for the pa.s.sengers.

They'll go wild over this."

Jack quickly typed off a bulletin.

"Shortly before noon, in communication with wrecked and drifting flying-boat _Adventurer_. She is about twenty miles to the Southwest.

We are hurrying at top speed to her a.s.sistance and should be there in a little over an hour's time.

"Ready, Chief Operator, _S. S. Tropic Queen._"

The excitement that followed the posting of this notice on the bulletin board at the head of the saloon stairs may be imagined by those who have pa.s.sed long, dreamy, uneventful days at sea, when even the sight of a distant sail provides all manner of topics of conversation.

But now they were steaming at top speed toward the hulk of a flying-boat-that is, provided she was still on the surface. The ship buzzed and hummed with vibrant excitement. Pa.s.sengers lined the rails, and some of the more excitable even tried to swarm into the rigging, from which exalted positions they were swiftly ejected.

Black smoke poured from the _Tropic Queen's_ funnels, and the speed of her accelerated engines caused a humming vibration to run through her frame like the tw.a.n.ging of a taut fiddle string. On the bridge, white-uniformed officers stood, with gla.s.ses in hand, all on the alert to catch the first black speck on the sparkling sea which might reveal the location of the wrecked air adventurers.

Forward, on the forepeak and in the crow's nest, lookouts had been doubled. And excitement was added to the race to the rescue when it became known that the _City of Mexico_ was speeding from the southward on the same errand of mercy.