She never heard of "sich bisness, a-wakin' people out of their beds in the middle o' the night fur dem foolin' merchines." But Harry's racket had a good effect, after all.

It woke Aunt Judy, and after a time she got out of bed, uncovered the fire, blew up a little blaze, lighted a candle, and putting on some clothes, came and opened the door, grumbling all the time.
"Now den," said she, holding the candle over her head, and looking like a black Witch of Ender just out of the ground, "What you want ?" "I want to come in," said Harry.
"Well, den, come in," said she.
Harry was not slow to enter, and having made Aunt Judy bring him two candles, which he told her the company would pay for, he set to work to get his end of the line in working order.
When all was ready, he sat down to the instrument and "called" Harvey.
He felt very anxious as he did this.

How could he be sure that Harvey was there?
What a long time for that poor fellow to wait, without having any assurance that Harry would get across the creek at all, much less reach his post, and go to work.
"He may suppose I'm drowned," thought Harry, "and he may have gone home to tell the folks." But there was such a sterling quality about Harvey that Harry could not help feeling that he would find him in his place when he telegraphed to him, no matter how great the delay or how doubtful the passage of the creek.
But when he called there was no answer.
Still he kept the machine steadily ticking.

He would not give up hoping that Harvey was there, although his heart beat fast with nervous anxiety.

So far, he had not thought that his family might be frightened about him.