“If that’s the case,” thought Roy, “a fellow’s a fool not to cultivate a pleasing way. What’s the use of working hard to learn a trade or a profession or a business and then lose half the advantage of that training by lack of proper manners?”
Thereafter he consciously strove to make people like him. That was not a difficult task, for Roy was good-looking and both witty and sunny in disposition. Before long he found himself a general favorite. In a way that troubled Roy, for passengers persisted in coming to the wireless house, which was contrary to regulations. He had to inform visitors that unless they came on business he could not allow them in the wireless house. As Roy was popular and everybody aboard was interested in him and his work, passengers began to send messages merely that they might see something of the wireless house. The result was a tremendous increase in business--an increase which the Marconi people were not slow to notice. Thus, although he did not realize it, Roy was already profiting by his effort to cultivate charm of manner.
Swiftly the days went by. The weather continued fair and pleasant. Roy remained busy. He had many messages to send for passengers and at night he continued to take the time and weather signals and to jot down the day’s news for the captain. Most of all he loved to listen in at night when the air was vibrant with wireless voices. Every night he talked to Reynolds, and soon felt as though they were old acquaintances. Behind the _Lycoming_, Roy soon discovered, were some of the vessels he had visited with the purser in Galveston. He had many a conversation with them before finally the _Lycoming_, just at dusk, drew abreast of the signal station at Sandy Hook, and a string of flags was hoisted above the _Lycoming_ announcing her safe arrival. The flags came fluttering down and Roy knew that the marine observer was probably already sending out the news that the _Lycoming_, with cotton aboard, had arrived from Galveston. It was dark when the ship reached quarantine, and dropped her anchor just off the Staten Island shore to await a medical inspection in the morning.
The quarantine officials were astir early and the _Lycoming_ was soon on her way up the harbor. Roy had no work to do, and he came out on deck to enjoy the stirring scene. Mr. Young was in command, and he invited Roy to join him on the bridge. Roy was amazed at the great number of ships in the harbor. Never had he seen anything like so many. Ordinarily the waters of the upper bay hold but few ships at anchor. Now there were vast fleets of anchored ships. Usually, Roy knew, tramp ships were almost the only vessels to be found anchored in the harbor. But now he saw dozens of fine, large ships that were quite evidently liners, lying in one or another of the various anchorages. He could make out the names of some of the vessels, so that he was sure he was right.