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It was a long and weary ride to the nearest telegraph office at Gunnison, yet he never dismounted from his staggering horse until he heard the clicking of the sounders in the dingy little office. "My life is yours alone," he wrote firmly; "let me make amends. Will you mold the chalice?"
Edison, who was always ready to earn some extra money for his experiments, and was already known as the best-informed operator in the office, accepted the invitation. What happened is described by Adams as follows: "We gathered up a couple of sounders, a battery, and sonic wire, and at the appointed time called on her to do the stunt.
Scarcely had the tiny sounder become silent when the air was shaken by an urgently-vibrated message, and every wireless sounder gave warning. The Invasion The pulsating air and the chattering sounders were giving the same dire warning, the alarm extraordinary of invasion, of imminent and catastrophic danger from the air. "Don't try to reach the palace.
The sounders were clicking monotonously when the trick man turned to the relief operator who was checking Darby's transfer sheet. "What do you suppose Eckstein was up to, sitting here all night, Jim?" "Give it up," said the relief man. "Ask me something easy." "I'll bet a hen worth fifty dollars I can guess. He didn't want Mr. Ford to make time." The relief man looked up from his checking. "Why?
Modern OTHR installations have different transmitting and receiving sites, often located many miles apart. From the early 1950s pulsed oblique ionosphere sounders had shown that the normal ionosphere is much more stable than had previously been thought to be. The physical reason for this is that the incredibly tenuous ionized gas which does the reflecting has a molasses-like viscosity.
Once it was a wild sow which scuttled out of the bracken, with two young sounders at her heels, and once a lordly red staggard walked daintily out from among the tree trunks, and looked around him with the fearless gaze of one who lived under the King's own high protection.
Though the momentous Tuesday was still three days in the future, Mr. McVickar was actively at work on the Saturday morning, gathering in the loose ends and strengthening the railroad company's defences. With his arm-chair drawn up to the borrowed desk he was running rapidly through the telegrams filtering in a steady shower from the crackling sounders in the writing-room.
I had to take what came. When I got the job, the cable across the Ohio River at Covington, connecting with the line to Louisville, had a variable leak in it, which caused the strength of the signalling current to make violent fluctuations. I obviated this by using several relays, each with a different adjustment, working several sounders all connected with one sounding-plate.
At the rate those two sounders were going they sounded to me like the crack of doom and I was becoming powerfully warm. I finally mustered up courage and answered him. The first thing the despatcher said was: "Where in h l have you been?" I didn't think that was a very nice thing for him to say, and he fired it at me so fast I could hardly read it, so I simply replied, "Out fixing my batteries."
The minutes dragged leaden-winged, and even the sounders on the despatcher's table were silent. Suddenly the clicking began again. The operator at "yard limits" was sending the O.K. to the two train orders. So far, so good. Now if Callahan could get safely out on the Western Division... But there was a hitch in the lower yard.
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