We was watchin' Rupert go through his
Columbus-discoverin'-Staten-Island motions, and I was workin' up some
josh to hand him, when he comes rushin' back to the wireless room. No,
we didn't stretch our ears intentional, and if we sidled up under the
cabin window it must have been because there was a couple of deck
chairs spread out convenient.
"Isn't that some kind of warship off there?" Captain Killam is
demandin' of Meyers.
"Wait," says the operator, fittin' on his tin ear. "He's just
calling." Then, after listenin' a while, he announces: "He wants to
know who we are."
"Don't answer," orders Killam.
"Oh, all right," says Meyers, and goes on listenin'. Pretty soon,
though, he gives out another bulletin.
"It's the United States gunboat _Petrel_, and he's demanding who and
what. Real snappy this time. Guess I'd better flash it to him, eh?"
"No, no!" says Rupert. "It's no business of his. This is a private
yacht bound for a home port. Let him whistle."
It struck me at the time as a nutty thing to do, but of course I'm no
judge. I had a hunch that Rupert was registerin' importance and
showin' how he was boss of the expedition--something he hadn't a chance
to get over before. It ain't long, though, before Meyers begins
talkin' like he was uneasy.
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