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Updated: June 23, 2025
If Tim was ready to smile and dig in, the Wolves' chances were improved 50 per cent. But though Tim was ready to work, he was far from being in a friendly state of mind. His flag wig-wagged short three-and four-word messages that Don could carry in his head without resorting to pad and pencil. At four o'clock the work was over. "Want to go to the woods tomorrow?" Tim asked gruffly.
Thompson wig-wagged again and rode on, reaching the ranch as the others were finishing their breakfast. At the table Red Connors remarked that the tardy one had a hole in his sombrero, and asked its owner how and where he had received it. "Had a argument with C 80 out'n th' line." "Go 'way! Ventilate enny?" "One." "Good boy, sonny! Hey, Hopalong, Skinny perforated C 80 this mawnin'!"
Climbing from the machine, the two apostles stepped a few paces in total darkness; then the elder man produced a small electric torch, which he wig-wagged above his head. There was a series of answering flashes at a distance; and next moment a door, let into the side of the ravine, opened right in front of the pair.
Ever stop to " His attention was caught by a signal from the other vessel, and a keen-eyed sailor wig-wagged back an answer. It was all right, although at first I still remembered the timely warning regarding the slightly submerged mine. As a matter of fact, it was merely a desire of the sister ship's captain to turn around and "sweep back," as the land-lubber might term it.
I could assure him, however, that the cattle had made no effort to drop out and leave the trail. But a short time after he passed me I noticed a horseman galloping up the column on the opposite side of the herd, and knew it must be the foreman. Within a short time, some one in the lead wig-wagged his lantern; it was answered by the light in the rear, and the next minute the old rear song,
From the lieutenant came the answer, wig-wagged by arm: "Good! March your men in." "I have allowed men to fall out and rest," Hal answered. "They are tired after their hike." "Rest your men five minutes, then march them in," replied Lieutenant Prescott. "Very good, sir," Hal signaled. Exactly five minutes later, Overton commanded: "Fall in! By twos right, march!"
In reply to orders wig-wagged up to us from headquarters in a white farmhouse, we flung forth our identification streamers, blue, white and red arranged in code to form an aerial passport, and received a wave of approval in reply.
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