“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
transferred to other ships. Consols up ¾ per cent. Earl of Roakby reported dead—” No, not that! He rubbed it furiously out. Not that! Not that! And with the scrawled sheet askew in front of him Micky slid forward upon the desk and fell into a coma of utter exhaustion with his auburn head pillowed upon his arm.
The sun seared the horizon with a scarlet pencil, then poked a burnished disk above the waves, but the red beams which shot across the sea and into the wireless house did not awaken the sleeping boy. Groups of sailors in bare feet appeared and silently began to play the hose over decks already scrupulously clean, while others on hands and knees scoured them with holystone. The ensign was shot up. A champagne drummer disclosed himself on the boat deck in pink pajamas and disheveled hair, smoking a cigar. Below decks you could hear electric bells being rung for breakfast, or for trousers sent to be pressed over-night. Vague noises came from the scullery. Up forward somewhere echoed the faint notes of a bugle. Two or three gulls were already hovering high over the stern,90
