A Ship in Distress
149
was a cry of distress, an SOS message the radio man had picked out of the air:
The chief engineer entered the cabin. “Start your engines at once, Mr. Farley. We just caught a distress call. Steamer ashore on the east coast of Cape Cod. See that everything is ready for a hard run.”
“All right, sir,” and the chief engineer hurried forward.
Soon the ship began to vibrate. The rumbling noise of the machinery arose. Yet the Iroquois lay quiet in her dock.
“He’s warming her up,” thought Henry. “It’s a good thing, too, for this is going to be some struggle. I’ll bet the waves are like mountains.”
The captain rang his call-bell. “Send Lieutenant Hill to me,” he said.
The lieutenant came briskly into the cabin. The two officers conferred a moment. Henry stepped over to the wardroom. Not even the doctor was there. Cards and books lay on the table in disorder, as they had been dropped at news of the wireless. Everybody was at his post,