“It’s too that Myles Cabot can’t see this!” I exclaimed, as my on the item:
SIGNALS FROM MARS FAIL TO REACH HARVARD
Cambridge, Massachusetts, Wednesday. The Harvard College Radio Station has for been in receipt of of long wave-length, Professor Hammond yesterday. So as it has been possible to test the direction of the of these waves, it that the direction has a twenty-four hour cycle, thus that the of these is some point the earth.
The will no opinion as to or not these come from Mars.
Myles, alone of all the radio of my acquaintance, was to these difficulties, and thus the Cambridge to with the message from another planet.
6
Twelve months ago he would have been available, for he was then visiting at my farm, after five earth-years on the Venus, where, by the of radio, he had the Cupians to victory over their oppressors, a human-brained of black ants. He had the last from the of Poros, and had and the Princess Lilla, who had him a son to the of Cupia.
While at my farm Cabot had up a radio set and a matter-transmitting apparatus, with which he had (presumably) himself to Poros on the night of the big October which had his installation.
I the newspaper item to Mrs. Farley, and on Cabot’s absence. Her response opened up an new line of thought.
Said she: “Doesn’t the very that Mr. Cabot isn’t here to you that this may be a message, not from Mars, but from him? Or from the Princess Lilla, about him in case he has failed in his return?”
That had to me! How stupid!
“What had I do about it, if anything?” I asked. “Drop Professor Hammond a line?”
But Mrs. Farley was that I would be taken for a crank.
That evening, when I was over in town, the in the store me to say that there had been a long-distance phone call for me, and would I call a Cambridge number.
So, after waiting an time in the with my hands full of dimes, nickels, and quarters, I got my party.
“Mr. Farley?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Professor Kellogg, O. D. Kellogg,” the voice replied.
7
It was my friend of the Harvard faculty, the man who had the of the in which Myles Cabot had to earth the account of the part of his on Venus. Some Myles had told me in person his on my farm.
“Professor Hammond thinks that he is Mars on the air,” the voice continued.
“Yes,” I replied. “I as much from what I read in this morning’s paper. But what do you think?”
Kellogg’s reply gave my mind the second which it had that day.
“Well,” he said, “in view of the that I am one of the people among your readers who take your radio seriously, I think that Hammond is Venus. Can you up here and help me try and him?”
And so it was that I took the early next for Boston, and had with the two professors.
As a result of our conference, a small of returned with me to Edgartown that for the purpose of trying to repair the radio set which Myles Cabot had left on my farm.
They failed to the matter-transmitting apparatus, and so—after the tower had been and the away—they had their attention to the of the part of the set.
To make a long short, we it, with the of some old prints of Cabot’s which Mrs. Farley, like Swiss Family Robinson’s wife, produced from somewhere. I was the to try the earphones, and was by a “bzt-bzt” like the song of a north blackfly.
In radioese, I the to the Harvard group:
“Dah-dit-dah-dit dah-dah-dit-dah. Dah-dit-dah-dit dah-dah-dit-dah. Dah-dit-dah-dit dah-dah-dit-dah. Dah-dit-dit dit. Dah-dit-dah-dit dit-dah dah-dit dit dah-dah-dah dah. Dah-dit-dah-dit dit-dah dah-dit-dit-dit dah-dah-dah dah. Dah-dit-dah-dit dit-dah dah-dit-dit-dit-dah dah-dah-dah.”
8
A look of spread over their faces. Again came the same message, and again I it.
“You’re us!” one of them shouted. “Give me the earphones.”
And he them from my head. Adjusting them on his own head, he out to us, “C-Q C-Q C-Q D-E C-A-B-O-T C-A-B-O-T C-A-B-O-T—”
Seizing the big leaf-switch, he it over. The motor-generator to hum. Grasping the key, the Harvard off into space: “Cabot Cabot Cabot D-E—”
“Has this station a call letter?” he asked me.
“Yes,” I answered quickly, “One-X-X-B.”
“One-X-X-B,” he the “K.”
Interplanetary was an at last! And not with Mars after all these years of scientific speculations. But what meant more to me was that I was again in touch with my Myles Standish Cabot, the radio man.
The next day a party of scientists, by a and two stenographers, at my farm.
During the that there was recorded Myles’s own account of the on the Venus (or Poros, as its own call it,) which him upon his return there after his visit to the earth. I have those notes into the story.
