At last the answer came, faint but distinct, whispering in through the microphone on his head. “Hello! Hello! Hello!” it sounded. “Who’s this?” “Survivor of the wrecked steamer Queen, now on board an unknown steamer in the middle of the Sargasso Sea. Is this Guantanamo?” Sharply the answer came: “Yes. What did you say? Survivors of the Queen? Good Heavens, you were given up for lost. How many are you?” “Three! Miss Fairfax--” “Great Scott! Colonel Fairfax has been wild. Who else?” “Police Officer Jackson!” “Yes.” “And Frank Howard.” “What! The murderer?” “No. The convict. This is he talking.” “Oh! Beg pardon! Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Where did you say you were?” “We drifted into the Sargasso Sea on the Queen, and brought up finally against the wreck-pack in the middle. Then we changed to another ship. It’s a long story. You’d better note it down carefully. I may be cut off any minute.” “Oh! I’ll note it down all right. Go ahead. But first about the others on the Queen. Two boats got to port all right. How about the third?” “Capsized! All lost except Miss Fairfax, who was washed back to the Queen, and pulled aboard by Jackson and Howard, who had been left there by accident. Now listen. This is urgent. We are in great danger here, and need aid at the first possible moment----” “In danger? What’s the matter?” “Listen, and I’ll tell you.” Hurriedly, but concisely, Howard narrated their adventures, describing the wreck-pack and its queer colony, and pointing out the danger to which Miss Fairfax was subjected. Toward the end of the story, Guantanamo evidently became restless, for he broke in. “Say!” he clicked, disgustedly. “Do you expect me to believe all that?” “Surely. Why not?” “Because it’s nonsense. Say, friend, you are wasted at sea. You ought to be a New York yellow-journal reporter. Now, who the devil are you, really?” “I’ve told you.” “You’ve told me a pack of lies--begging your pardon. I’d got into a pretty fix if I reported this nonsense; now, wouldn’t I?” “You’ll get into a worse one if you don’t. For God’s sake, man, don’t be a skeptical fool. As I’ve told you, I’m a prisoner, and am only able to talk to you because this man Forbes apparently knows nothing of the wireless. My jail may be changed any minute, and I may never get another chance. This thing is very serious. There are about twenty-five people hopelessly confined here on these wrecks, and aid should be sent them at once.” “Bah! You mean to tell me that people have been living there for years and years, and nobody has ever found it out?” “Lots of people have found it out, but nobody has ever gone back to tell. If you never heard of the wreck-pack, ask any old sailor, and he’ll tell you of it--though he’s never seen it or known any one who has. Why shouldn’t there be people on it?” “Well, suppose there are. How can we help you?”