el the same, too!"

"Perhaps, but here there doesn't seem to be anything to do. It all
depends on some one else."

"That's all right. You leave it to Tom. He'll get an answer yet, you
see if he doesn't."

It was an hour past midnight. Tom tossed uneasily on the hard bed
in the wireless shack. The telephone receiver on his ear hurt him,
and he could not sleep.

"I may as well sit up for a while," he told himself, and he arose.
In the dimness of the shack he could see the outlines of the dynamo
and the motor.

"Guess I'll start her up, and send out some calls," he murmured. "I
might just happen to catch some ship operator who is up late. I'll
try it."

The young inventor started the motor, and soon the dynamo was
purring away. He tested the wireless apparatus. It shot out great
long sparks, which snapped viciously through the air. Then, in the
silence of the night, Tom clicked off his call for help for the
castaways of Earthquake Island.

For half an hour he sent it away into space, none of the others in
their shacks below him, awakening. Then Tom, having worked off his
restless fit, was about to return to bed.

But what was this? What was that clicking in the telephone receiver
at his ear? He listened. It was not a jumble of dots and dashes,
conveying through space a message that meant nothing to him. No! It
was his own call that was answered. The call of his station--"E.
I."--Earthquake Island!

"WHERE ARE YOU? WHAT'S WANTED?"

That was the message that was clicked to Tom from somewhere in the
great void.

"I GET YOUR MESSAGE 'E. I.' WHAT'S WANTED? DO I HEAR YOU RIGHT?
REPEAT." Tom heard those questions in the silence of the night.

With trembling fingers Tom pressed his own key. Out into the
darkness went his call for help.

"WE ARE ON EARTHQUAKE ISLAND." He gave the longitude and latitude.
"COME QUICKLY OR WE WILL BE ENGULFED IN THE SEA! WE ARE CASTAWAYS
FROM THE YACHT 'RESOLUTE,' AND THE AIRSHIP 'WHIZZER.' CAN YOU SAVE
US?"

Came then this query:

"WHAT'S THAT ABOUT AIRSHIP?"

"NEVER MIND AIRSHIP," clicked Tom. "SEND HELP QUICKLY! WHO ARE YOU?"

The answer flashed to him through space:

"STEAMSHIP 'CAMBARANIAN' FROM RIO DE JANEIRO TO NEW YORK. JUST
CAUGHT YOUR MESSAGE. THOUGHT IT A FAKE."

"NO FAKE," Tom sent back. "HELP US QUICKLY! HOW SOON CAN YOU COME?"

There was a wait, and the wireless operator clicked to Tom that he
had called the captain. Then came the report:

"WE WILL BE THER