"They'd just have to hold him till we could get there in the boat--they couldn't get him back here." "No sooner said than stung," said Roy; "hurry up, bring that can, and some matches and--yes, you might as well bring the Manual anyway, thought I know that code backwards." "You're right you do," said Tom. He was glad to see Roy himself again and taking the lead, as usual. "If there was only one of these telegraph operators--guys, as I used to call them--star-gazing, we'd pass the word to him, all right." "A word to the guys, hey? Come on, hustle!" A strenuous climb brought them to the brow of a hill from which the lights of several villages, and the more numerous lights of Poughkeepsie could be seen. "Now, Tomasso, see-a if you know-a de lesson--queeck! Connect that up and--look out you don't step on the tube! I wish we had a pedestal or something. When you're roaming, you have to do as the Romans do, hey? Open your Manual to page 232. No!" he said hurriedly looking over Tom's shoulder. "_Care of the fingernails!_ That's _259_ you've got. What do you think we're going to do, start a manicure parlor? _There_ you are--now keep the place to make assurance doubly sure. Here goes! Hello, folks!" he called, as he swung the long shaft fan-wise across the heavens. "Now, three dots for S?" "Right," said Tom. Roy sent three short flashes into the night, then paused and sent a longer flash of about three seconds. Another pause, then three of the longer flashes, then a short one, two long ones and a short one. "S-T-O-P--stop," he said. "Right-o," concurred Tom. "Now F--two shorts, a long and a short--is it?" "You know blamed well it is," said Tom. Thus the message was sent. _"Stop freight going north; boy locked in car. Hold. Friends coming up river in boat flying yellow flag."_ They had on board a large yellow flag with TEMPLE CAMP on it, and Roy thought of this as being the best means of identifying the boat for anyone who might be watching for it along the shore. Three times they flashed the message, then hurried back to the boat and chugged out, anchoring in midstream. The course of the river is as straight as an arrow here. The lights in the small towns of Milton and Camelot were visible on either side; tiny lights flickered along the railroads that skirted either shore, and beyond in the distance twinkled the lights on the great bridge at Poughkeepsie. "We're right in the steamer's path here," said Tom; "let's hurry." Roy played the shaft for a minute to attract attention, then threw his message again and again into the skies. The long, bright, silent column seemed to fill the whole heaven as it pierced the darkness in short and long flashes. The chugging of the _Good Turn's_ engine was emphasized by the solemn stillness as they ran in toward shore, and the splash of their dropping anchor awakened a faint echo from the neighboring mountains. "Well, that's all we can do till morning," said Roy. "What do you say to some eats?"