“C. Q.” or, In the Wireless House
sack me. So far as the passengers coming up is concerned, I wish you would devise some way to keep ’em out. I can’t. I ’m sure the company wouldn't like it, and it interferes horribly with my work. Is that all, sir? And shall I take the news for you to-night, sir?”
The Captain gave Micky one withering look and brushed by him without reply. He had no evidence as to how the news had leaked out, and he was quite aware of it. In addition, he had no business to get the news himself, if his ship was not a subscriber. Of course they all did get it. There it was in the air, and all you had to do was to tune in and swipe it. The company expected it, and you did n’t deprive anybody of anything by so doing. Even if you had n’t subscribed, it was n’t to be expected that men out of sight of land were going to be conscientious to the extent of avoiding knowing whether London had been blown up or who had won the Derby. The morning flimsy from the wireless house was a sort of daily courtesy from the Marconi people to the Captain. If he did n’t want it—why, he could leave it, that was all.
All this the purple Captain knew very well,15
