Electrical instruments are not the only means by which the Morse alphabet may be transmitted, for in some instances instruments would be in the way, while in others the wires might be down and communication cut off.
This is interestingly illustrated by an event in Thomas A. Edison’s life. When he was a boy and an apprentice telegraph operator on the Grand Trunk Line, an ice-jam had broken the cable between Port Huron, in Michigan, and Sarnia, in Canada, so that communication by electricity was cut off. The river at that point is a mile and a half wide, the ice made the passage impossible, and there was no way of repairing the cable. Edison impulsively jumped on a locomotive standing near the river-bank and seized the whistle-cord.
He had an idea that blasts of the whistle might be broken into long and short sounds corresponding to the dots and dashes of the Morse code. In a moment the whistle sounded over the river: “Toot, toot, toot, toot,--toot, tooooot,--tooooot--tooooot--toot, toot--toot, toot.” “Halloo, Sarnia! Do you get me? Do you hear what I say?”
A third, fourth, and fifth time the message went across, to receive no response. Then suddenly the operator at Sarnia heard familiar sounds, and, opening the station door, he clearly caught the toot, toot of the far-away whistle. He found a locomotive, and, mounting to the cab, responded to Edison, and soon messages were tooted back and forth as freely as though the parted cable were again in operation.
Some years ago the police of New York were mystified over a murder case. The man they suspected had not fled, but was still in his usual place, and attending to his business quite as though nothing had happened to connect him with the tragedy.
Detectives in plain clothes had been following him and watching closely his every move in and out of restaurants and shops and at social affairs; but not the slightest proof could be secured against him.
One noon-time they followed him into a café, where he had gone with a friend. The detectives took seats near him, but each of them sat at different tables in the room full of people.
When in the café the suspect sat next the wall, a habit the detectives had noticed. Consequently, only those persons who sat at one side of him or directly in front could see his face. During the time they were in the restaurant the detectives communicated with each other by tapping on the table tops with a lead-pencil; and something the man said, which the nearest detective heard, led to the climax. One detective rose, paid his check, and loitered near the door; another got up a little later and sauntered out, but returned with a cardboard sign. Going over to the table where the suspected criminal and his friend sat, he deliberately tacked it on the wall above them, then went out again, leaving the third detective to watch the face of the man as he read: