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by Percy F. Westerman (Author)
Excerpt: ...you stow 'em in." The Acting Chief hurried off, pausing outside the wireless-room to give Mostyn the last known position of the ship, which information was a necessary adjunct to the SOS call. Peter had not been idle. The moment the seriousness of the situation became apparent he was back at his post in the wireless-cabin. The shutting off of steam had automatically stopped the dynamo. In any case, the explosion had severed the "leads." The main set was out of action. Mostyn had to fall back upon the emergency gear. For quite ten minutes he contrived to call up, but no reassuring reply came through in reply to the urgent appeal for aid. There were ships within range of the emergency set, that Peter knew. He had spoken them earlier in the evening. "Either atmospherics or else they've another Partridge and Plover on board," he thought grimly. "Wonder where my birds are?" The two Watchers ought to have been on the bridge by this time. In case of distress it was their duty to "fall in" outside the wireless-cabin and await instructions. Neither had done so. The floor of the cabin had quite an acute list by this time. It was only by propping his legs against the lee bulkhead that Mostyn could keep seated. He realized perfectly well that the ship was sinking rapidly, but it is part of an unwritten code of honour that a wireless officer "stands by" until he is ordered away by his skipper or swept from his post by the sea itself. Even as he waited, still sending out the unacknowledged SOS, he thought of Olive Baird, wondering how she was faring in the horrors of the night. If he only knew
