Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator. Duffield J. W.
exactly, sir,” answered Bert. “I’ve had several invitations to spend part of the time with friends, but, as perhaps you know, I haven’t any too much money, and I want to earn some during the vacation, to help me cover my expenses for next year. I’ve written to my Congressman at Washington to try to get me work in one of the wireless stations on the coast, but there seems to be so much delay and red tape about it that I don’t know whether it will amount to anything. If that doesn’t develop, I’ll try something else.”
“Hum,” said the Dean, as he turned to his desk and took a letter from a pigeon hole. “Now I have here a line from Mr. Quinby, the manager of a big fleet of steamers plying between San Francisco and the chief ports of China. It seems that one of his vessels, the Fearless, needs a good wireless operator. The last one was careless and incompetent, and the line had to let him go. Mr. Quinby is an old grad of the college, and an intimate personal friend of mine. He knows the thoroughness of our scientific course” – here a note of pride crept into the Dean’s voice – “and he writes to know if I can recommend one of our boys for the place. The voyage will take between two and three months, so that you can be back by the time that college opens in the Fall. The pay is good and you will have a chance to see something of the world. How would you like the position?”
How would he like it? Bert’s head was in a whirl. He had always wanted to travel, but it had seemed like an “iridescent dream,” to be realized, if at all, in the far distant future. Now it was suddenly made a splendid possibility. China and the islands of the sea, the lands of fruits and flowers, of lotus and palm, of minarets and pagodas, of glorious dawns and glittering noons and spangled nights! The East rose before him, with its inscrutable wisdom, its passionless repose, its heavy-lidded calm. It lured him with its potency and mystery, its witchery and beauty. Would he go!
He roused himself with an effort and saw the Dean regarding him with a quizzical smile.
“Like it,” he said enthusiastically, “there’s nothing in all the world I should like so well. That is,” he added, “if you are sure I can do the work. You know of course that I’ve had no practical experience.”
“Yes,” said the Dean, “but I’ve already had a talk with your Professor of Applied Electricity, and he says that there isn’t a thing about wireless telegraphy that you don’t understand. He tells me that you are equally familiar with the Morse and the Continental codes, and that you are quicker to detect and remedy a defect than any boy in your class. From theory to practice will not be far, and he is confident that before your ship clears the Golden Gate you’ll know every secret of its wireless equipment from A to Z. I don’t mind telling you that your name was the first one that occurred to both him and myself, as soon as the matter was broached. Mr. Quinby has left the whole thing to me, so that, if you wish to go, we’ll consider the matter settled, and I’ll send him a wire at once.”
“I’ll go,” said Bert, “and glad of the chance. I can’t thank you enough for your kindness and confidence, but I’ll do my very best to deserve it.”
“I’m sure of that,” was the genial response, and, after a few more details of time and place had been settled, Bert took the extended hand of the Dean and left the office, feeling as though he were walking on air.
His first impulse was to hunt up his two chums, Tom and Dick, and tell them of his good fortune. Tom was a fellow classmate, while Dick had had one year more of college life. The bond that united them was no common one, and had been cemented by a number of experiences shared together for several years back. More than once they had faced serious injury or possible death together, in their many scrapes and adventures, and the way they had backed each other up had convinced each that he had in the others comrades staunch and true. During the present year, they had all been members of the baseball team, Tom holding down third base in dashing style and Dick starring at first; and many a time the three had pulled games out of the fire and wrested victory from defeat. In work and fun they were inseparable; and straight to them now Bert went, flushed and elated with the good luck that had befallen him.
“Bully for you, old man,” shouted Dick, while Tom grabbed his hand and clapped him on the back; “It’s the finest thing that ever happened.”
“It sure is,” echoed Tom. “Just think of good old Bert among the Chinks. And the tea houses —and the tomtoms —and the bazaars —and the jinrikishas – and all the rest. By the time he gets back, he’ll have almond eyes and a pig-tail and be eating his rice with chop sticks.”
“Not quite as bad as that, I hope,” laughed Bert. “I’ve no ambition to be anything else than a good American, and probably all I’ll see abroad will only make me the more glad to see the Stars and Stripes again when I get back to ‘God’s country.’ But it surely will be some experience.”
Now that the first excitement was over, the conversation lagged a little, and a slight sense of constraint fell upon them. All were thinking of the same thing. Tom was the first to voice the common thought.
“Gee, Bert,” he said, “how I wish that Dick and I were coming along!”
“Why not?” asked Dick, calmly.
Bert and Tom looked at him in amazement.
“What!” yelled Bert. “You don’t really think there’s a chance?”
“A chance? Yes,” answered Dick. “Of course it’s nothing but a chance – as yet. The whole thing is so sudden and there are so many things to be taken into account that it can’t be doped out all at once. It may prove only a pipe dream after all. But Father promised me a trip abroad at the end of my course, if I got through all right, and, under the circumstances, he may be willing to anticipate a little. Then too, you know, he’s a red-hot baseball fan, and he’s tickled to death at the way we trimmed the other teams this year. And we all know that Tom’s folks have money to burn, and it ought to be no trick at all for him to get their consent. I tell you what, fellows, let’s get busy with the home people, right on the jump.”
And get busy they did, with the result that after a great deal of humming and hawing and backing and filling, the longed for consents were more or less reluctantly given. The boys’ delight knew no bounds, and it was a hilarious group that made things hum on the Overland Limited, as it climbed the Rockies and dropped down the western slope to the ocean. The world smiled upon them. Life ran riot within them. They had no inkling of how closely death would graze them before they even set foot upon their ship. Nor did they dream of the perils that awaited them, in days not far distant when that ship, passing through the Golden Gate, should turn its prow toward the East and breast the billows of the Pacific.
CHAPTER II
An Unexpected Meeting
The “Fearless” was a smart, staunch ship of about three thousand tons – one of a numerous fleet owned by the line of which Mr. Quinby was the manager. She had been built with special reference to the China trade, and was designed chiefly for cargoes, although she had accommodations for a considerable number of passengers. She was equipped with the latest type of modern screw engines, and although she did not run on a fixed schedule, could be counted on, almost as certainly as a regular liner, to make her port at the time appointed. Everything about the steamer was seamanlike and shipshape, and the boys were most favorably impressed, as, under the guidance of Captain Manning, they made their way forward. Here they were introduced to the first and second officers, and then shown to the quarters they were to occupy during the voyage.
Like everything else about the ship, these were trim and comfortable, and the boys were delighted to find that they had been assigned adjoining rooms. By the time they had washed and changed their clothes, it was time for supper, and to this they did ample justice. They were valiant trenchermen, and even the narrow escape of the afternoon had not robbed them of their appetites.
“You’d better eat while you can, fellows,” laughed Bert. “We sail to-morrow, and twenty-four hours from now, you may be thinking so little of food that you’ll be giving it all to the fishes.”
“Don’t you worry,” retorted Dick, “I’ve trolled for bluefish off the Long Island coast in