he connection, where it was made and interrupted as
the operator pressed the key, or allowed it to spring up, Russ made a
short film. The young man who was sending a message looked up as he
finished and smiled at the group observing him.

"I got that smile, too," Russ informed him.

"Did you get any reply?" asked Captain Falcon, as the operator removed
the receivers in order to hear the commander's question.

"The _Bell_, of the Downing Line, is within fifty miles of us," the
operator replied. "She can come up when we need her."

"I don't think we shall," the captain said. "But kindly ask her to stand
by during the night."

"Then the fire isn't altogether under control?" asked Paul.

"Not as much so as I would like to see it," answered the commander,
frankly. "But we are keeping at it."

He wrote out the message he wished sent to the _Bell_, and then the
little audience gathered again at the door of the wireless room to watch
the operator at work.

Russ made films as long as the daylight lasted, but finally the coming of
night forced him to stop, and he put away his camera.

The fighting of the fire still went on, though little of it could be
observed now. There were no flames to be seen, but doubtless, down in the
hold, where the cargo burned, there were angry, red tongues of fire. But
the compartment was kept closed. It was now nearly full of water, the
captain reported, and the fire must soon be extinguished.

"Unless it has crept to another compartment," ventured Mr. Sneed.

"Hush! Don't let anyone hear you say such things!" cried Russ,
indignantly.

Dinner was not a very cheerful meal, but all managed to eat something.
And the night was an uneasy one. What sleep there was came only in
catnaps, for there was the constant noise of the pumps, and the running
about of the sailors on the decks.

The _Tarsus_ was still motionless, save only as she rolled with the sea,
which was still calm. Captain Falcon found that to proceed would be to
drive the smoke aft into the cabins, and he did not want to do this. So
he had the main engines shut down.

Through the night the fire was fought, and in the morning it was a gray
and haggard captain who faced the anxious group of passengers gathered in
the main saloon.

"What is the report?" asked Mr. Pertell.

"Not very encouraging," was the answer. "We are now disabled, and the
fire is still burning."

CHAPTER VI

BY WIRELESS

For a moment no one spoke