Tom breathed a sigh of relief. His crew also was glad the trip was over.
Exhausted from lack of sleep, most of them tumbled into their bunks to snatch a few hours of much-needed rest.
Since there had been no darkness, there was no daybreak to signal the coming of morning. Time had to be judged solely by the clock. At eight Tom put in a radio call to Shopton. Soon his father’s voice came back by short wave.
LOST IN THE BLIZZARD 143
“Great to hear from you, son! Did you have a successful flight?”
Tom described the blizzard they had been through, and told how they had lost contact with Arvid Hanson.
“I’ve been wondering if you might have picked up his signal back at Shopton?”
“Not so far,” replied Mr. Swift. “But I’ll keep a radio operator on the job at all times, in case he does try to get through.”
“How about Senator Rives?” Tom asked. “Any news yet from Washington?”
“No, nothing from that quarter, either,” his father replied. “And I might add that I’ve still had no luck translating that message from our space friends. The more I work at it, the more puzzling it grows!”
After transmitting several messages for various other members of the crew, Tom signed off and turned the set over to his regular radioman. Just as he was about to descend to the galley for breakfast, the radio operator gave an excited cry.
“Hey, skipper!”
Tom wheeled around instantly and was back at the operator’s side in two quick strides.
“Hanson?”
“Yeah, it’s Arv, all right! But the signal’s weak.”
Slipping on the extra earphones, Tom listened anxiously while the operator tried to coax stronger