"That's it!" cried Russ. "And I guess that is what the crackling is.
Listen!"

"Isn't it a fire, then, that we hear?" for the crackling sound
continued.

"That's the electric spark," said her brother eagerly. "That is what it
must be. Let's peep into this room, Rose. It is where the telegraph
machine is."

There was a window near by, but as they approached it the two children
found a door in the wireless house, too, and that door was open. A man
in his shirt-sleeves and with a green shade over his eyes and something
that looked like a rubber cap strapped to his head was sitting on a
bench in front of some strange looking machinery.

He was writing on a pad and the crackling sound came from an electric
spark that flickered back and forth in the machine before him. Russ and
Rose gazed in, wide-eyed.

At length the crackling stopped and the spark went out with a sputter.
The man stopped writing and wheeled about in his seat. He saw them
looking in at the doorway.

"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "If here aren't two of the little Bunkers. Do you
want to send a message by wireless?"

"Thank you," said Rose promptly. "I think it would be nice to send word
to Aunt Jo that we are all right and that the ship is all right and that
we caught an eagle."