Morse Code Battle

“Armadillo crosses the road, forcing Wells Fargo stagecoach to stop in its tracks.” Horace had written. He added a personal message: “From the best telegraph operator in the business.—Horace Davis.”



Stewey huffed and rolled up his sleeve. He let out a deep breath and started to tap the telegraph. He was just about to send out that message. Now he definitely wanted to send a message to this louse about who was the best telegraph operator in these parts.



“Mayor Bob mistakes local coyote nuisance as his own dog allowing him to run wild around ranches and terrify families. --from the fastest keys in the West.” Horace received the message loud and clear. He could imagine his enemy typing out his message. “No way. I will show you buddy. I’m going to make you pay.” He sent a message that was equally as strong. “Cowboy wrangles himself in local herding. –No one knows Morse Code better than Horace Davis. Have keys do travel.”



As soon as the machine moved a tiny fraction, Stewey knew what it was. “Damn fool. You are no match for me.”



Before Stewey’s message even finished, Horace was back typing. He typed quickly and with a passion.



By now, Stewey had had it. He pounded the key of the telegraph until his fingers turned blue.



Horace was yelling at the top of his lungs…”I hate you!” He used his fists to make the machine pay for what Stewey was doing. The machine couldn’t take it anymore…



The same could be said for the other side, Stewey threw himself on the machine. At that moment, both machines blew up and both Stewey and Horace ended up sharing the same hospital room in Chicago.