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CHAPTERI.STOLENSIGNALS
THEearlysummermorningwaswarmandverystill,
andtheonlysoundinthebare,shed-likeroomwasthe
slowsuckingofwavesatthefootofthegranitecliff
onwhichitwasbuilt.Onatableinthecentreofthe
roomstoodafive-valvewirelessset,thewirescoming
downthroughtheslatedroof.Besidethewiresthere
dangledtwothincords,thelowerendsofwhichwere
withinreachofJimSelwyn,thetall,slim,keen-faced
boywhosatwiththeheadphonesoverhisears.
Thedooroftheworkshopopenedsoftly,and
asecondboycamein.Hewasaqueercontrasttothe
first,forhewasnearlyasbroadashewastall,and,
whileJimSelwynhaddarkbrownhairandverydark
blueeyes,thehaironSamLusty’ssquareheadwasred
asfireandhiseyeswerebetweengreenandgrey.
Hewasstrongasayoungbull,andagreatdealmore
activethanhelooked.
“Whatareyougetting,Jim?”heaskedinagruff
voice.
JimSelwynlookedround.“Notathing,Sam,”hesaid
ruefully.“NoneofthesestupidfellowsintheStateswill
talktome.”
Samgrunted.“Isupposeyou’retryingsomeofyour
funnygameson‘em,”heremarked.
“MydearSam,Inevertryfunnygames,”Jim
answeredplaintively.“It’strueI’musingaratherextra
shortwave-length,butthatoughttomakeitallthe
easierforthemtogetme.TheseWesternchapsareall
asleep.”
“Ifyoucan’tgetWesttryEast,”advisedSam.
“What’stheuseofthat?”retortedJim.“Thesun’s
blazingalloverEurope,anditisn’tlikelythatanyone
therewillbetryingtotalk.Americaistheonlydark
continentatthishourofthemorning.”
Therewasalongwait,thenatlastSambecame
impatient.
“Chuckitandcomedowntothebeachforaswim,”
