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Although throughout the day Mr. Crowninshield did not wander far from the telephone no word came from the New York detectives and evening saw him quite discouraged.
"I cannot imagine what those fellows are up to," fretted he. "Now that they know where the yacht is and have had all day to do something about it, it is beyond my comprehension why they haven't. Lola will be dead before they get round to moving on Daly."
"I don't believe they are sitting idle," Bob declared in an effort to cheer his patron. "Probably there will be news to-morrow."
"Maybe," sighed the financier. "But if something does not happen by to-morrow, I shall start myself in my own yacht to chase up Daly."
"I doubt if that would do any good, sir," protested Bob. "It might simply, as you said yourself, precipitate a crisis."
"Well, a crisis is better than having nothing done," fumed the man irritably.
"You must not forget there is O'Connel."
"Much good he is doing. We have only heard from him once and as we have no license you can't talk to him."
"Nevertheless, he is on the job at his end of the line," Bob answered. "He has a lot of common sense, too. You can trust him to keep tabs on how things are moving."
"Maybe I can. I hope so," was the dismal retort.
Evening, however, saw no improvement in Mr. Crowninshield's mood. "Not a yip of any sort from those chaps in New York. One would think they were dead," he growled. "Well, I'll give them one more day and then if they haven't something to show I will send them to blazes and take up the case myself. I almost wish I had done it in the first place. Here I am paying a small fortune and getting no results."
Again Bob struggled to soothe the perturbed mind and raise the capitalist's spirits.
"Oh, we'll hear something to-morrow, I guess," said he with an optimism he did not altogether feel. "Maybe my license will come; or the inspector may appear; or O'Connel may send tidings; or news may come from New York. Something is sure to happen. Why don't we all go over to the station and listen in on the broadcasting to-night. We are sure to get something that will be interesting and now that the 'loud speaker' is in position we shall be able to hear without using individual receivers. You haven't any of you really heard what our wireless can do."
"I know it," acknowledged the gentleman. "You see, just about every night during broadcasting hours we have either had company or I have been busy."
"But are you to be busy to-night?" inquired Bob.
"No, I fancy we're not. Mrs. Crowninshield said there was nothing on."
"Then why don't we light up the boathouse, and all of us listen to what is going on in the world," Bob suggested. "I wish, too, Jerry might come. He has not had a chance to see the outfit at all, much less hear it. If it would not annoy you and the ladies just to let him sit at the back of the room he could hear everything now that the horn is on." Bob hesitated. "He has been so kind about helping us——"
"Sure! Ask him by all means," Mr. Crowninshield assented heartily. "Or better yet, I will ask him myself. I am glad you reminded me of it. Jerry is my right-hand man and I like to give him pleasure when I can. What time will your show begin?"
"Oh, from seven o'clock on there is usually something doing, sir. But the most interesting part of the program begins at eight."
"We'll be on hand, then."
This promise won Bob imparted the tidings to Dick and Walter and the two assistants, as they dubbed themselves, hastened to prepare the new radio building for the reception of guests. Comfortable chairs and gay cushions were brought from the house and in his enthusiasm Dick even went so far as to drape a flag over the entrance of the low room.
"We might have hung out bunting if we'd known sooner they were coming," said he.
"I guess they won't care about the bunting once they are inside the place," Walter asserted in a comforting tone.
"Don't you hope the outfit will show up well? I do," declared Dick. "It would be just our luck to have something act up so we couldn't hear anything. Then Dad, who is feeling pretty much on edge anyway, would announce that a wireless was simply money thrown in a hole."
"We're not responsible for the conditions," laughed Bob. "If static is bothersome it is not our fault."
"Nevertheless, Dad wouldn't understand that. He would just think we did not know how to operate the thing."
"Well, we'll pray for moderate quiet," smiled Bob. "Of course I'd like the apparatus to show off at its best. But like a child, it probably won't. We shall have to take our luck; and if we do not get satisfactory results to-night why the audience will have to come again to-morrow or some other time."
"Maybe it won't—at least maybe Dad won't," Dick answered incoherently. "If he starts off in the yacht to-morrow——"
"Oh, he won't set off to chase Daly to-morrow, don't you fret," put in His Highness. "He was only sputtering. What good could he do? He wouldn't have any right to search theSireneven if he overtook her; nor could he arrest the criminals aboard her. Daly would pitch Lola over the side of the boat before he would stand by and let your father board his yacht and he knows it."
"Maybe he does," admitted Dick. "Still, he was tremendously in earnest this afternoon."
"He has calmed down some now," His Highness replied.
"I hope he'll stay calmed," Dick smiled. "Perhaps, unless our show goes wrong and he gets irate at the radio company, he will."
In fact had the three young wireless operators been willing to admit it they were far more perturbed when they heard the invited company approaching than they would have been willing to confess. In the heart of each of them was the same thought: the new radiophone must justify itself and prove that it was worth all the money that had been expended upon it.
"Well, here we are! And here's Jerry, too. He said he couldn't possibly come—tried to make me believe he was too busy, the rascal. But I labored with him and finally got him here," announced the master triumphantly.
Very hot and very uncomfortable under the general banter Jerry blushed.
"Now where do you wish to put us, Dick?" inquired the boy's mother. "We are under your orders to-night—yours and Bob's."
"I think you will be able to hear in any of these chairs—that is, if we hear at all," Dick responded nervously.
"What do you mean byable to hear at all?" put in his father sharply.
"Why—eh—sometimes conditions vary," was the ambiguous answer. "One does not always hear equally well." It seemed wiser to prepare his father's mind for possible disappointment.
In the meantime Bob was tinkering with the plugs.
"Everybody ready?" he asked.
"All on deck!" came from Mr. Crowninshield whose depression, it was plain to be seen, had momentarily vanished.
"Then here goes!" cried Bob.
Instantly the quiet of the room was transformed into a chaos of sound. There was a shrill piping as of a singing wind, and a wail that echoed hauntingly through the air as the tuner revolved.
"What in the name of goodness——?" began Mr. Crowninshield.
"Hush, Dad! It is always like that," explained Dick hastily.
"But it's horrible."
"Yes, I know. But wait."
"Isn't something out of order?"
"No." Dick smiled patronizingly.
"My soul and body," whispered Jerry from his corner, "did anybody ever hear such a sound? Ain't it the wind outside. Seems as if a gale must have come up—a hurricane, tornado, or something. If a storm's coming I can't sit round here. I'll have to be seeing to the awnings or they'll be ripped to pieces." He half rose from his chair.
"Don't worry, Jerry; everything's all right outside," interrupted Walter reassuringly.
"You mean to say it's just in here?" murmured the bewildered Jerry. Enjoying the old man's confusion, Walter nodded.
"What you hear is the rise of our pitch," explained Dick.
"I should think it was the rise of something," grumbled Mr. Crowninshield.
"We are running up our meters in order to catch the higher tuned waves," Bob added. "That is part of the bedlam."
"And the rest?"
"It is static interference."
"What's that?"
"Well, static is the big bugbear of radio," answered Bob, pausing a moment in regulating his tuner and detector. "It is caused by stray waves moving in various directions through the atmosphere, and by electrical conditions. It is the defect all wireless people have to fight. Sometimes it is worse than others and unfortunately to-night it promises to be pretty bad. You see it has been a close, heavy day and no doubt thunderstorms are in the air. A thunderstorm will kick up no end of a rumpus with wireless."
"But we haven't had any thunderstorm," Nancy called above the hubbub.
"No, but somebody else's thunderstorm would bother us almost as much," Bob explained good-humoredly.
"Never mind the thunderstorms now," put in Mr. Crowninshield. "Aren't we going to hear anything but this whistling and groaning? Whee! There it goes again. It is for all the world like a chorus of cats."
"It is more like a siren horn tooting up and down," laughed Nancy.
A spluttering crackle blotted out the wail.
"You would think they were frying doughnuts," grinned Dick, "wouldn't you?"
"And you really believe a thunderstorm would cause a noise like this?" queried Mrs. Crowninshield incredulously.
"It might. We have no way of knowing exactly what is raising the trouble."
"Do you mean to say that a storm that wasn't round here at all could——" burst out Jerry, then stopped embarrassed.
"Indeed it could," replied Bob, answering the unfinished question. "You see thunderstorms cause powerful electrical waves that affect apparatus miles and miles distant. Of course such waves vary in length but nevertheless they act on all aerials to a greater or less degree. Then, too, the atmospheric conditions are never quite identical, changing with the hour of the day, the season of the year, and local weather disturbances. Fortunately, since the air is positively electrified and the earth negatively, certain of these differences are remedied by the aerial that connects the two, the current discharges partially seeping off through the ground. Sometimes, however, in spite of every device used, such currents are strong enough to cause a roar in the receiver. In addition there is the interference from other radio stations which are busy transmitting messages, and although there are rules that aim to reduce this annoyance, it is, to a certain extent, always to be reckoned with."
"I should think somebody ought to invent something to prevent such troubles," declared Nancy.
"Why don't you, Sis?" asked Dick wickedly.
"But it is terrible to have the air so full of noise," continued the girl, as she made a little face at her brother. "I've always thought of the air as being still."
"It is still in a general sense," smiled Bob. "It is only when the amplifier of the wireless magnifies the sounds that we realize how many of them our ears fail to hear."
"It's a downright mercy they do!" exclaimed Jerry.
"You're right there, Jerry!" agreed Mr. Crowninshield.
"But how do messages come through such a chaos?" Dick inquired.
"Sometimes they don't," laughed Bob. "But nine cases out of ten they do because there are ways of combating static interference. You can, for instance, tune your apparatus to a higher or lower pitch and thereby escape from the zone where the noise is. That whine you hear is produced by my turning the tuning knob and increasing our range of meters. Already with the higher vibration you will notice the hubbub has lessened."
"Yes, things are ever so much clearer," agreed a chorus of voices.
"That is one way, then, out of the difficulty. There are, in addition, other mechanical means that can be resorted to when you learn more about handling the outfit. Suffice it to say that in a general way whatever tends toward inertia, or a lack of electrical activity, decreases static interference."
There was a pause in which above the crackling and the wailing of the instrument a faint sound became audible.
"Gee! Did you hear that?" cried Walter.
"Hush!"
"But I heard a voice quite distinctly."
"Keep still, can't you?" Dick remarked unceremoniously.
Then plainly into the room came the words:
"Station (WGI) Amrad Medford Hillside, Mass. 360 meters. Stand by for Boston Police reports."
"That is the police news," whispered Dick to Nancy. "Among other things it gives the automobiles that are lost, their numbers, and a description of each."
"Want to hear it?" asked Bob of his audience.
"Not unless they can tell us they have found Lola," responded Mr. Crowninshield promptly.
"Oh, no," his wife hastened to add, "let's not listen to a long string of crimes. Goodness knows there are enough of them to read in the papers."
She shook her head warningly at Bob and motioned toward her husband.
"I'd rather hear some music," put in Nancy. "Can't we?"
There was an ascending wail from the tuner.
"Ain't that a band?" cried Jerry excitedly.
"It's an orchestra!" Nancy ejaculated in the same breath.
"It's gone!"
"We'll get it again," was Bob's confident answer as he twirled the knobs of both tuner and detector.
"There it is!" burst out Jerry. "It's a brass band, as I live!"
"Where do you suppose it is?" speculated Mrs. Crowninshield.
"Pittsburgh or Chicago; or perhaps Newark."
"Not Chicago—out West! You're fooling," observed Jerry with scorn.
"Indeed I'm not. Wait and you'll hear in a few moments exactly who it was."
"I'll not believe it unless I do," the old man announced, with a zest that provoked a general laugh.
"What time is it? Can any one tell?" asked Bob.
"What difference does that make," Walter inquired.
"It will give us a cue as to who it is," was the explanation. "All these broadcasting stations have certain hours for their programs."
"I've seen those lists published in the papers, but I never took any stock in them," growled Jerry.
"You'll have to now, Jerry," said Nancy mischievously.
She saw him scratch his head.
"Well, I dunno," was his laconic reply. "The whole thing beats me. If that band was in Chicago——"
"Hush!"
The crash of instruments had come to an end and over the wire in accents unmistakably distinct came the words:
"Westinghouse Electric and Manufacturing Company KYW Chicago, Illinois. Stand by fifteen minutes for——" but the rest of the sentence was lost, for with a mighty slap of his knees Jerry roared:
"It was in Chicago—that band! Well, I'll be buttered!"
Overwhelmed the Cape Codder had risen to his feet.
"Chicago! Pittsburgh! Medford! My eye, but this will do me to talk about until the day of my death. It don't seem possible; I'm beat if it does."
Helplessly he dropped back into his chair again, silenced by very wonder.
In the meantime out of the wailing and whining and piping the sharp, clear-cut click of a telegraph instrument could be discerned.
"That's the Morse code," explained Bob. "Some commercial station is sending a message. It seems to be about a shipment of lumber and isn't particularly interesting."
"I suppose you can read it," said Dick enviously.
"Naturally. That is part of my job, you know."
"What is a commercial station?" inquired the still bewildered Jerry.
"A station that sends only messages for the general public. Probably this load of lumber started out of port without the captain of the ship having the least idea in the world where he was to market it. In the interval since it left, however, the company's shore agents have secured a customer for it, perhaps in New Bedford, Boston, Providence, or some other coast city and they are now notifying the ship where to deliver it. Such an arrangement is quite common nowadays. Were the captain obliged to hold his cargo in port until he had a purchaser, as was the usual rule in the past, he would be wasting much precious time. By this method he can set forth the moment the vessel is loaded and during his voyage let his managers search for buyers. In all probability by the time he nears New England harbors his wares will be sold and orders sent him where to deposit them."
"That's a neat little scheme!" observed Walter.
But poor Jerry was too much overcome by the marvels he had witnessed to comment on this added miracle. All he could do was to reiterate feebly: "It beats me—hanged if it don't!"
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Morning found Mr. Crowninshield in no more tractable a mood. Even before Bob could reach his post at the wireless station and adjust his double head receiver to his ears his employer came briskly across the grass with his after-breakfast cigar between his lips.
"Well," began he, when he was within calling distance, "any news yet?"
"I'm afraid not yet, sir. It is still early."
The great man took out his watch.
"Isn't it almost time for O'Connel to signal?"
"It is nearing the time."
"I wonder if he will have any tidings for us?"
"I certainly hope so." The wish was uttered with deep sincerity. A speculation was forming in the young operator's mind as to how he was going to pacify the irascible gentleman before him should no tidings come.
"Since I'm here I believe I'll drop down and wait until you get into touch with theSiren."
"It is liable to be quite a little while. Sometimes there is delay."
"No matter. I've nothing especial to do to-day."
With sinking heart Bob turned away and began to fuss with his oil can and a bit of cotton waste.
"As you will, sir," was all he said.
"You think, don't you, that we will hear something definite this morning?"
"There is no telling."
"No, of course not. Nevertheless O'Connel can at least let us know whether Lola is worse or better."
"Yes, we ought to ascertain that."
"He wouldn't be such an idiot as to stand by and see the dog die, would he?"
"One never can predict just what another person will do. However, I feel sure you can trust O'Connel. I never knew him to bungle anything yet."
With that comfort Mr. Crowninshield was obliged to content himself.
Notwithstanding it, however, he began to pace nervously back and forth, and every time there was a sound in the room he would whisk about with the quick remark:
"Didn't you hear something?"
But although he fretted and fumed, strolled out the door and in again, no amount of impatience appeared to hurry matters.
Even Bob began to lose his poise and fear no message was coming when suddenly the well-known signal came and the familiar clockwork began to be clicked off.
"Is it he?" demanded Mr. Crowninshield in a tense whisper.
Bob nodded.
On clicked the code. Then suddenly it stopped and the man who was watching saw the operator raise the discs of rubber from his ears and shake himself free of his metal trappings.
"Well?" inquired Mr. Crowninshield in quick staccato.
"It was O'Connel. All he said was:Wait developments."
"Not a word about Lola?"
"No, sir."
"Not a reference of any sort?"
"That was all."
"But that is no kind of a message," announced the exasperated owner of Surfside. "Why, it might mean almost anything."
"It sounds hopeful to me."
"I don't see any hope in it," was the despondent answer.
"It least it gives us to understand that something is brewing."
"But why couldn't he have told us more?"
"Perhaps he did not dare to. They may have begun to suspect he was sending private messages."
"Humph! I had not thought of that."
"Or possibly he may have been in a rush. He sent the letters at a tremendous pace—so fast that I had to race him. It seemed as if he was afraid he might not be able to get the message through."
"You didn't answer anything, I suppose."
"Only my signal to let him know I was listening."
"Then you think there is nothing more to be done at present but sit right here and see what happens?"
"I do not see how we can do anything else."
"It's frightfully annoying."
"Yes. Nevertheless it is our only course."
"You've no inkling whether the developments he mentioned are to be soon or not?"
"Not the ghost of an idea."
"Then there is nothing for it but to hold on right here a while longer, I'm afraid. And since we are all to be tied to the spot you may as well come up to the house later and give Dick his usual radio lesson."
"Very well, sir."
With a curt nod the financier went out the door and after seeing that everything was right Bob locked up the building and followed him.
He found the little group assembled in the lee of the awnings waiting for him. Mr. Crowninshield was there, too, gnawing fiercely at a fresh cigar.
"I hear you have had a message, Bob," Mrs. Crowninshield said as he approached.
"Yes; a rather hopeful one, I think."
"I'm so excited! We all are. What do you suppose is in the wind?"
"I've no idea. Something good, I hope."
"Is that Morse code hard to learn?" inquired Nancy.
"The Morse Continental? That depends on what you consider hard," smiled Bob. "If your memory is good and you are quick at catching sounds it ought not to be very awful. Numberless persons do learn it."
"Of course sending messages after you have the code learned cannot be so bad, for you can take your own time," Dick put in. "It is receiving them that would fuss me."
"We'll fix you up with a buzzer and let you and Walter practice later if you want a try."
"Could you?" asked Dick eagerly.
"Sure! Moreover, there are phonograph records made on purpose to be used by beginners. Perhaps your father will get you some of those. It is a fine way to learn, training your ear to the sounds and giving you lots of practice."
"What a bully scheme!"
"It is a good proof of how one science can help another, isn't it?" observed Mrs. Crowninshield.
"I suppose transmitting is a great deal harder than receiving anyhow, isn't it?" pursued Dick.
"Well, of course there is more to it. In the rough it is merely the reverse of receiving; but in reality to project a message through the air requires a more elaborate outfit."
"But you said our wireless would send as well as receive."
"Oh, it will. It was made with both ends of the service in view. Your apparatus would first have to be adjusted and tuned until it was at the same frequency as the station with which you were talking. That you have to do anyhow, whether you are sending or receiving. And I told you, you remember, how to regulate that. Your antenna is connected through an adjustable induction coil, and moreover you have a small condenser which together with it forms a closed circuit. It is simple enough when you understand the principle to adjust the vibratory motion in the antenna by moving the connection. The frequency of the closed circuit can be adjusted, too. Tuning is nothing more than putting these two circuits into accord with the waves you receive. Your detector does a good part of the work for you, for it responds to every oscillation set up in the receiver. When, however, you are transmitting a message, you must take care to cut out your receiver by turning on the switch. Never forget that. You won't be likely to, either, when you are told why. You see it requires power to send out transmission waves and therefore to do it you have to employ a high-pressure current. Receiving, on the other hand, demands delicately adjusted instruments which are equipped to catch every faint, incoming wave. Should you let the strong charge of electricity used for transmission pass through your fragile receiving apparatus you would ruin it in no time."
"I can see that," replied Dick.
"Grasp that notion and you have one big principle of the difference between sending messages and receiving them," said Bob. "Skill in learning to take messages either in code or cipher comes with practice. The more you work at it the faster you can go. You have a keyboard all installed and the only thing standing between you and an expert operator is patience. Speed comes sooner than you think, too, if you practice persistently every day. As for the Morse code you press the key lever down quickly and instantly release it to make a dot. A dash is equal to three dots; the space between the parts of the same letters is equal to a dot; that between two letters to three dots; and between two words to five dots. You must train your ear until the span of these intervals becomes unmistakable. When you get some skill and are ready to try out what you can do, you will find that there are several ways of getting wider practice. There are, for example, local clubs that broadcast in code and send messages limited in speed to an amateur's capacity. Such centers are considerate enough to transmit at the rate of not more than five or ten words to the minute. It is persistence and a willingness to go slowly and carefully that win out in the end. A moderately delivered message that is without errors is worth a dozen fast, inaccurate ones; for when you blunder and have to go back and repeat, you not only waste your time and that of the man at the other end of the line but you annoy and usually confuse him. You will never gain anything if you are content with being a sloppy operator since above everything else radio messages must be correct. That is their chief value. Therefore, if after trying with all your might you find you cannot qualify as a topnotch, high-speed man be content to drop into the class below and be an accurate, slower operator. There are always certain things we do better than others. Speed may not be one of your gifts. That is no sign you have not other talents, however. Face the fact and go into the class where you belong. You won't get so nervous and fussed up, and by and by you may surprise yourself by finding that with time and experience the desired speed will come."
"I am not aiming to be a crackerjack like you," grinned Dick. "If I can take down and send any messages at all I shall feel pretty cocky."
"You think that now," returned Bob, ignoring the flattery contained in the observation. "But by and by you will find yourself discontented and as crazy to make time as you are in an automobile. There is a fascination about it."
"Doesn't the Morse Continental bother you a bit?" inquired Mr. Crowninshield.
"Not a particle. In fact, it has come to be almost as easy reading as straight English," answered Bob. "The thing that does fuss me sometimes though is to send and receive in cipher."
"Mercy! Do they do that too?" gasped Mrs. Crowninshield.
"Certainly. Often both in time of war and times of peace confidential messages which it is not desirable all the world should know have to be transmitted. Sometimes these are government communications; sometimes business or personal ones. At any rate, their senders wish them kept private and hence they are sent in cipher. Many of them are queer enough, too, when they come in."
"Can you understand them yourself?" asked Nancy.
"Certainly not. It is not intended that any one except the person for whom they are intended shall know what they mean."
"But I should think since they make no sense you would wonder whether you had them right," commented Dick.
"I do wonder sometimes," admitted Bob honestly. "When you get a sequence of queer words or combinations of letters you cannot help wondering. However, there is not much chance for a mistake, either in the transmission or in the delivery of such messages, for the operator is always obliged to send them slower than he does ordinary stuff, spacing the letters or groups of letters with unusual care. Furthermore, code words are always repeated once. This gives the man receiving them a chance to print the letters by hand rather than write them, a precaution that does much to prevent mistakes. The address and signature must also be very carefully transmitted. With such watchfulness at each end of the line it would be only a colossally stupid person who would blunder."
"But suppose the operator who is transmitting went faster than you could?" murmured Walter.
"He doesn't as a general rule. It isn't wireless ethics. And even should he be a more skillful radio man he knows he would gain nothing by hustling the chap at the other end for he would only lose time by having to go back and repeat."
"Is all the general transmission of messages given such care?" inquired Mr. Crowninshield.
"Of course cipher communications are fussier," Bob said. "Nevertheless the rules are pretty strict for all messages. And since accuracy is the keynote of radio and to get it your outfit must be in A1 condition, every care must be taken to have strong, clear, and effective sending and receiving power. That means you must constantly clean your apparatus and tighten it up; test out your detector by the buzzer intended for the purpose and make sure that it is in sensitive condition; and assure yourself that every part of your set is OK. Moreover, an operator who is on duty listening in is expected to wear the double head receiver all the time, so no sound, however faint, may get by him. He must also see that his detector is adjusted to its greatest degree of sensibility and his tuner to the proper wave length. If your station happens to be near another, or if you are one of a group of ships and other vessels near yours are sending, you must watch out and either weaken the coupling of your detector or open your switch and cut it out altogether when those around you are using powerful currents for transmission; else you will wreck this delicate part of your instrument."
"Gee, but there are things to remember!" ejaculated Dick.
"Not so many, really, if you use ordinary brains," Bob returned. "You just have to think, that is all. A few big principles hold throughout. The otherdon'tsare simply to make your own work and the other fellow's smoother; prevent mistakes; do away with as much interference as possible; and protect your outfit. For example, I found I could often lessen the interference by loosening the coupling of my receiving set after I had heard a call and reduce the sound to a point where it was just readable. You get your message all right but you do not get so much else with it. Then you can save wear and tear if you only run your generator while you are sending messages. That you cannot transmit at the hours reserved for naval radio stations to send out the time signals by which navigators set their chronometers, or when operators are broadcasting, goes without saying. Any dunce would know that."
"I had no idea there were hours for sending out the time," confessed Dick.
"Indeed there are. It is very important, too, that ships know the correct time to prevent disasters. There are shore stations whose sole duty it is to supply to ships the time and their location. Don't you recall my mentioning such coastal stations?"
"Oh, yes; I guess I do remember now," returned Dick, a trifle confused.
"What happens if you call a station and nobody answers?" interrogated Nancy. "I have been meaning to ask. Do you just keep on calling as you do at the telephone?"
"No, indeed," was the instant reply. "Should you do that you would cause no end of interference and make yourself a nuisance to everybody. The rule is that after you have called a station three times at two-minute intervals you must stop for a quarter of an hour before you call again. If you happened to be calling a fleet of ships it is desirable to alter your tune rather than keep repeating the summons in the same key. It saves time. Merchant ships and coast stations must, however, be called in the wave length definitely specified for their use."
"Shipboard stations seem to have more rules than the others," commented Dick.
"Not more rules but different ones," Bob said. "You see their nearness to other ships makes this imperative. Each ship has to take care not to knock out the apparatus of its neighbor by inconsiderate use of a high-power current; also it must not cause undue interference. In other words, a bevy of ships, like a group of persons, must be courteous to one another. If a ship within a ten-mile radius of another is receiving signals that are so faint that they are difficult to distinguish, a neighboring vessel should not complicate matters by trying to transmit a message until the other ship has received what was coming in. This rule makes for ordinary politeness, that is all."
"Couldn't the ship waiting to talk send a message in a different wave length?" inquired Dick.
"Oh, yes; that would be quite possible, if the tune varied enough to make it perfectly distinct."
"But what about high-power stations?" demanded Walter. "They handle important stuff and of course cannot keep stopping for other people to talk. Don't their powerful currents damage the receiving sets in stations near them? I should think they might even injure their own."
"High-power, or long-distance stations have still another problem to meet and they meet it in a different way," responded Bob. "In order that the currents they are obliged to use shall not destroy detectors and other delicate receiving apparatus they carry on what are known as duplex operations. That is, the receiving station is constructed at some distance from the sending station—often several miles away—and the two parts of the service are performed independently by different antennæ. In this way sending and receiving can be carried on at the same time in slightly varying wave lengths."
"But how can they talk and act as one station if they are so far apart?" questioned His Highness much puzzled.
"It is not as impossible as it seems. The operator at the sending station has a small sending key connected by electricity with a relay at the receiving station. By means of a lever and certain complex paraphernalia this key can be used as the sending key for the main apparatus. Thus the station operated by distant control carries on a duplex system of transmission so that both sending and receiving stations are kept in touch with one another."
"That is clever!" interrupted Mr. Crowninshield.
"A high-power station has to be ingeniously equipped," responded Bob, "for it does a great deal of business, rapid business and business that is important. In some stations so fast do the messages come in and so long are they that an automatic tape not unlike that seen at the stock exchange is used to make perforated records of the dots and dashes. Later this punctured slip can be run through a Morse writer and the message taken down at leisure by the operator. Or sometimes photographic or phonographic records are resorted to and these like the others can be reproduced at a slower rate of speed and interpreted by the operator."
"I should like that and then I wouldn't have to hurry," murmured Nancy.
"It must be jolly to be an operator in a long-distance station," mused Dick, "where real things are going on."
"Perhaps it is," was Bob's nonchalant answer. "I fancy, though, that very vital government messages go in cipher. Uncle Sam isn't risking having his secrets published far and wide over the face of the whole earth. Although for that matter all radio messages are secret."
"But how can they be if any and everybody can listen in?"
"Well, on a high-power wave length probably ordinary persons would not be able to listen in. Their apparatus would not be equipped for it. Should a station be able to, however, during critical periods, such as times of war, the government takes no chances and orders all but certain specified stations dismantled. That puts an end to intruders unless a spy has a hidden wireless somewhere; and if he has he takes an almighty risk with his neck, that is all I can say," concluded Bob with a grin.
"But operators have tongues and can talk," Mrs. Crowninshield suggested. "Don't they sometimes?"
"Usually they do not know what the message passing through their hands means," Bob answered. "But even should they contrive to study it out they would not dare repeat it because of the penalty entailed."
"Penalty?"
The young operator nodded.
"You would not have to concern yourself much about blabbers if you heard what happens to them," piped Walter, who suddenly found himself on ground which previous instruction had rendered familiar. "It's off with their heads!"
"Not really!" gasped the horrified Nancy.
"Oh, he does not mean literally," the elder brother explained. "But it is away with their license which is almost as disastrous a fate to a man who has planned to make his living by wireless. Nor is the loss of the license all that happens. In addition one is liable to a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar fine or three years' imprisonment."
"Jove! They do come down on you!" Dick averred.
"Ra-ther! You know, of course, that if you violate any clause of your radio agreement you may be fined one hundred dollars; and should an operator fake a distress call the fine is twenty-five hundred dollars, or five years in prison and perhaps both. Even the smallest fine one can get off with for such an offense is two years behind the bars. It makes you think twice before playing that little joke. The government is wise, too, to spread it on thick, for to fake an S O S which is given the right of way over every other signal would be a contemptible trick. Mild punishments like fines and imprisonments would be too good for the wretch who would so deliberately mislead people. Moreover a few such offenses would cause the importance of the call to be discredited so that in time nobody would be in a rush to pay attention to it."
"I didn't realize an S O S so invariably had the right of way," meditated Dick. "Of course I knew it was the distress signal at sea."
"S O S in the International Morse Code is the universal distress call adopted by the common consent of our civilized nations at the wireless convention held at Berlin in 1906. Every radio station ashore or afloat is obliged to give it first place and do everything possible to further its demands. When a distress call is heard all ships and stations everywhere that hear it are in honor bound to stop whatever they may be doing and listen; nor must they try to talk with the ship herself unless she asks them to. Instead, after she has sent out her call for attention, which is equivalent to ourHelloof the telephone, she gives her name; the name of the station or ship she wishes to talk with; states what the matter is; and defines as nearly as she is able her position. This done she sends out a general call and if the station or ship she has asked aid from has not caught the signal and fails to answer her, any operator within hearing may do so. The instant he begins to talk with her, however, all the others listening in must remain silent. At last, when the message is delivered or the necessary conversation at an end, then the ship's radio man sends out a broadcast to let everybody know that he has finished so that all stations may resume their regular routine."
"Some system!" breathed Dick.
"I guess you would think there was some system if you were to see a book of radio rules," returned Bob. "I'll show you mine some day. All the various shore stations have their many regulations, as I have told you before; shipboard stations have theirs; and even the amateurs are protected so that every class may get fair play and not bother his neighbor. Wireless stations, you see, are not mere toys. They have work to do and must be able to do it unhampered."
"I'd like a glimpse of that manual," suggested Dick.
"I'll bring it round to-morrow," Bob answered, glancing at his watch and rising.
The others rose too.
"I suppose it would be no use to listen in for O'Connel again," remarked Mr. Crowninshield.
"I will if you like," Bob responded. "I doubt, though, if it would do any good."
"No, I guess it wouldn't. We shall just have to wait," sighed the man.