“Gee! I wish I knew. I don’t know a thing about it except what I have already told you. I don’t know how or where they smuggled in the wool, or how Sheridan intends to nab them. All I know is that he said I could go along.” “Maybe it will be your chance, Willie.” “If it is, I’ll be ready for it. Now won’t you show me your wireless?” They turned to the shining instruments on Roy’s operating table. Eagerly Willie examined each instrument from key to aerial. “They’re fine!” he cried. “Gee! It must be bully to work with such a set.” “Try it,” smiled Roy. “Maybe you can pick up something interesting.” Eagerly Willie plumped himself down in the operator’s chair, adjusted the receivers to his ears, threw over the switch and began to tune in. And as suddenly he snatched off the headpiece and jumped from the chair. “I’ll couple up my own receivers, Roy,” he said, “and then we can both listen in.” Willie dragged his heavy suit case out, threw open the cover, and quickly uncoupled the receivers from the wireless outfit in the case. In a moment he and Roy had coupled this additional headpiece to the _Lycoming’s_ outfit. Roy drew up another chair, and the two sat down at the table and adjusted their headpieces. Roy considerately let Willie work the instruments, giving him, from time to time, such directions as seemed necessary. When first Willie threw over the switch and began to tune in, the air seemed like a very bedlam. The headpieces screeched and wailed. Innumerable buzzings sounded. Spoken words could distinctly be heard. Yet the whole was an undecipherable jargon. But once Willie had gauged his instruments correctly, he soon made harmony out of discord. He was really a very good operator for an amateur, and he quickly began to pick up individual messages and shut out waves of conflicting length. Delighted, he listened to operator after operator, tuning in, now to messages in one wave-length, now to those in another. “That’s the Brooklyn Navy Yard,” said Roy, as a powerful, whining note suddenly shrieked through the air. “They’re calling for the coast guard cutter _Modoc_. And that’s Cape May calling. I’d know both those calls in my sleep. I get so close to both those stations that the operators almost seem to be in the cabin here with me.” “You called Cape May the time you rescued Alec, didn’t you? He wrote us about it.” “Yes; we had to get a tug to tow his boat into Cape May Harbor after we had picked it up.” After they had listened in silence for a few moments Roy said, “That’s the New York Marconi Station,” as another powerful wireless voice spoke out. “Isn’t that operator a peach? He can send like a streak. Just listen to him.”