Tom nodded, and vanished below once more. Jupe came forward from the stern, where he had been coiling lines and generally setting things to rights. “Marse Tom,” he said, with some hesitation, “is dere any objection to informationing me concerning de percise objec’ ob dis here penguination?” “Why, no, Jupe,” rejoined Jack, with a smile at the old negro’s remarkable choice of what he himself would have called “highfaluting” words, “the _Sea King_, with my father on board, as you know, is in some sort of trouble, and we are going to the rescue as fast as we can.” “How you find out dat, Marse Jack?” asked the old man, with a tinge of suspicion in his voice. “By wireless, Jupe.” “What!” in a tone of frank unbelief, “yo’ all mean ter tell me dat dat birdcage rigamarole ob yo’s done tell yo’ all dat?” “That’s right, Jupe.” “Sho’ now! Yo’ ain’t foolin’ de ole man, Marse Jack? Dat conjo’ wire done tell yo’ all dat?” “Of course. I should have thought that you’d seen enough of it at High Towers to know what it could do.” “Humph!” the old negro scratched his head in a puzzled way, “yo mean dose eccentrical wabes, as yo’ call ’em, done come all de way frum Marse Chadwick’s boat to de island?” “Just what I do, Jupe. It’s the same thing as chucking a stone in a pond. You know how the waves and ripples spread out and out in circles that get bigger and bigger?” “Ya’as, sah.” “Well, it’s the same thing in wireless. Instead of a pond you’ve got the air, or the atmosphere; instead of a stone, you’ve got an electric impulse from the antenna.” “An’ when dat eccentric ’pulse go ’way from dose—dose—aunties, it jes’ spread and spread like de ripples on a pond?” “Yes. The waves spread till they strike another wireless apparatus ‘in tune’ with them.” “An’ yo’ birdcage fiddle was tuned to de same pitch as de _Sea King’s_?” “That’s right, Jupe. You’re catching on fast We both use three hundred meter waves. That was agreed upon. Thus, you see, our station caught the message from the disabled yacht.” “Humph! But s’pose dere was some odder station dat had its fiddle tuned de percise same way?” “Why, then they’d have caught the message, too.” “An’ dey’d know, too, dat de po’ _Sea King_ done busted?” “I suppose so,—yes. But why do you ask?” “Fo’ jes dis reason, Marse Jack,—if any ob dem ole wreckers dat used ter hang about dese parts got dat message, maybe dey gwine ter go out dere, too.” “I guess not, Jupe. I never heard of any such rascals who had a wireless equipment.” “Den how ’bout dat po’ful mysterious X. Y. Z. I done heard yo’ an’ Marse Tom talkin’ ’bout at supper de odder night?” “Oh, X. Y. Z.!” exclaimed Jack with a laugh; “well, he _is_ a mystery for a fact. Some amateur on shore or some place, I suppose, who just happened to get tangled up with our slaves when we were practicing.”