He was glad to see Roy himself again and taking the lead, as usual.
"If there was only one of these telegraph operators--guys, as I used to
call them--star-gazing, we'd pass the word to him, all right."
"A word to the guys, hey? Come on, hustle!"
A strenuous climb brought them to the brow of a hill from which the
lights of several villages, and the more numerous lights of Poughkeepsie
could be seen.
"Now, Tomasso, see-a if you know-a de lesson--queeck! Connect that up
and--look out you don't step on the tube! I wish we had a pedestal or
something. When you're roaming, you have to do as the Romans do, hey?
Open your Manual to page 232. No!" he said hurriedly looking over Tom's
shoulder. "_Care of the fingernails!_ That's _259_ you've got. What do
you think we're going to do, start a manicure parlor? _There_ you
are--now keep the place to make assurance doubly sure. Here goes! Hello,
folks!" he called, as he swung the long shaft fan-wise across the
heavens. "Now, three dots for S?"
"Right," said Tom.
Roy sent three short flashes into the night, then paused and sent a
longer flash of about three seconds. Another pause, then three of the
longer flashes, then a short one, two long ones and a short one.
"S-T-O-P--stop," he said.
"Right-o," concurred Tom.
"Now F--two shorts, a long and a short--is it?"
"You know blamed well it is," said Tom.
Thus the message was sent.
_"Stop freight going north; boy locked in car. Hold.
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