Willie and Mr. Reynolds shook hands warmly. “I’m mighty glad to know you, Mr. Reynolds,” said Willie. “I’m glad to know any of Roy’s friends, for he and Mr. Robbins are almost the only people I know in New York. And I’m especially glad you are a wireless man. I’ve got my own wireless set here, but, besides Roy, I have no one near that I can talk to. Maybe I can talk to you when you’re near port.” “I’d be delighted,” said Reynolds. “And when I’m not near port, too, if we can reach each other. How far can your set carry?” “I don’t know,” said Willie. “I made my outfit myself. I run it now with dry cells, so it won’t carry very far. But when I’m able to, I’m going to get a battery powerful enough to carry as far as Central City, Pennsylvania. I want to be able to talk to the fellows back home.” “Then we can talk at considerable distances,” said Mr. Reynolds. “Where is your set installed?” “It’s in that old suit case under Roy’s bunk,” laughed Willie. “I don’t know where I’ll set it up. I just landed in New York and have no boarding-house yet. I’m going to work in the Custom-house. If it is possible, I should like to live near by. That will save time and be interesting, too. There are so many fascinating things to see down here. Then, too, I’d be near Roy’s pier, so he and I can see each other easily when he gets into port.” “That sounds like sense. I have no doubt you will find just what you are looking for. Suppose we exchange call signals. Then we can talk as soon as you get your outfit rigged up. The _Morro Castle’s_ call is KWC.” “And my call,” said Willie, “will be the same that I had back home. I am regularly licensed, but I suppose I may have to have my license transferred. At any rate, my old call is CBM. Our club call is CBWC. It’s a bit irregular, perhaps, but it is the call we chose when we formed the wireless club. The initials stand for Camp Brady Wireless Club.” “I see,” said Mr. Reynolds. “And how do you come to have the call CBM?” “It’s this way. The CB stands for Camp Brady and the M is my letter.” “I should think your letter would be B for Brown.” “You would naturally think so, but we couldn’t choose our calls that way. We had more than one fellow with the same initial. So we just picked our letters in our regular firing order. You know we had a pistol squad, and we used to shoot in turn. The letter M fell to me.” “I see,” said Mr. Reynolds. “As Shakespeare says, ‘What’s in a name,’ anyway? So I know your call, that is sufficient.” “Well, any time you hear the call CBWC, you’ll know that somebody is trying to get the fellows at home. And it would almost certainly be either Roy or myself. And if you hear the call CBM, you’ll know that somebody wants me. That would most likely be Roy. At any rate, I hope you will be sounding the call CBM before very long. I’ll let you know when I get my outfit set up.”