“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
Saxonia about nine o’clock. She left New York at ten this morning,” replied the second officer.
“We ’ve made s successful run—all things considered,” continued the Captain, who had Chilvers in his mind.
“Very fair, sir,” answered the other, a spare, wiry little man who loathed Ponsonby.
“Ought to pick up Fire Island by eight o’clock to-morrow night,” went on the other.
“And probably take on the pilot by five,” nodded Simmons, furious because the Captain had n’t had the simple, ordinary decency to offer him a cigar.
“I suppose they ’ll come down and take off Chilvers in a tug,” mused Ponsonby, thus adroitly luring the conversation in the direction of his coup.
“Very likely,” assented the other dryly. He had heard nothing but Chilvers—Chilvers—Chilvers for a week, and he was sick of him and of his captor.
“Well,—I ’m afraid it will make a great talk in the papers,” meditated the Captain. “Yellow press is hungry for this sort of thing. By the way, how is the man? You must be199
