A moment later heavy footsteps sounded on the deck and the captain appeared in the doorway. He stood in the narrow opening, red-nosed, gnome-like, with the white light glistening on his waterproofed figure.
"Are you keeping an ear open for everything in there?" he demanded, with a scowl of disapproval at the man beside the steamer-chair.
"I'm listening for anything," McKinnon answered, with the "set" over his head. The door shut again. McKinnon turned back to the littered pine table. The foghorn sounded and grew silent; the dynamo purred and buzzed as the starting-box lever crossed down on the contact-pins.
The stranger beside the steamer-chair buttoned his coat. Then he crossed the cabin and turned back to peer at the operator, bent low over his table as he called and listened, and called again.
"So I can count on you in this?" he asked in his quiet and reassuring guttural. His hand was already on the cabin door-knob.
"To the finish," answered the other man pregnantly, replacing his earphones and holding them close to his head with his muffling handkerchiefs.
